Ignorance is Bliss
by Yorkie1988
Summary: Examining the budding relationship between Gail and Holly and what happened when they weren't on our screen. This is my attempt at filling in the gaps and working out what goes through our favourite Rookie's head throughout.
1. Chapter 1

**So these two have got me a little addicted; and since I've had some time off work I put pen to paper (so to speak) and filled in the gaps.**

**Whilst what we have seen of their budding relationship, there's definitely been some scenes missing. This is my take on those scenes and the feelings they stir.**

**Please read and let me know what you think.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or these characters, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to tie Gail Peck to my bed and keep her forever and ever.**

* * *

"Batting cages?" You exclaim, as you hop out of the passenger seat. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

The look on the brunette's face makes you frown; she's enjoying this and you are most certainly not. You hate baseball. In fact you hate sports. You are not, and you're very sure of this point, sporty in any way.

"It'll be fun," she grins only making you frown harder.

"This is not what I had in mind when I suggested we hang out tonight."

She chuckles, and pulls her hoodie around her a bit tighter after locking her car. "Newsflash, just so you're aware, when you give a girl one hour notice, you can't expect to be wined and dined."

Holly starts walking towards the payment booth, obviously not hanging about to wait for you to carry on moaning. You've not given up yet. Not even close. If the punishment is playing sports, you're at least willing to push your luck with a bit more complaint. It is in your nature after all.

"I didn't expect dinner," you bite back; well aware your voice has a little whine to it. "But I did think there would be alcohol. What the hell is wrong with going for a couple of beers? Or even a movie?"

"We can grab a beer after," she smiles that ridiculous smile that makes something flip in the bottom of your stomach you can't explain, so you continue to ignore it. It's the same tactic you've been relying on for the past few weeks since the wedding. Just ignore, ignore, ignore.

You follow, reluctantly, dragging your heels and reach the booth beside her just as she's passing over a few bills to the youth reclining bored behind the counter.

"I'm not a baseball person," you try once last time but she still just grins at you.

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"Your opinion on fun is something we have to work on." You lean a bench as she picks up a bat from the rack beside the entrance to the cages and gives it a few test swings. You can't help your eyes from roaming once over her body. There's something about watching Holly with what, in your mind, can only be seen as a weapon rather than an instrument of fun that makes the idea of physical exertion all seem worth it.

"Smile, Officer, you never know, you might enjoy it."

She winks and you roll your eyes, but move towards the caging to watch her through it as she sets up the thingy majigga that shoots heavy ass balls at her at speed. Fun? You wonder, as the first ball flies at her. This just looks pure dangerous.

Though you can't deny she looks cute in that helmet.

* * *

Once the tears had subsided, there's a look in her eyes as she leans back against the side of her car, that brings that damn flip back and you suddenly realise you don't know how you're going to carry on ignoring it. She's watching you with what can only be described as affection and it does things to you. Big, scary things. Warm, fuzzy things. New things.

"Better?" She asks softly.

It occurs to you then, that she'd brought you here to cheer you up and take your mind off your day. You smile, and suddenly don't feel as humiliated as when you'd run out. Making a fool of yourself in front of Holly was one hundred percent not on your agenda when you'd called her from the locker room. But with her looking at you like this, you don't care anymore.

"Of course," you smirk. "Near death experiences have an enlightening effect on people."

She laughs and you feel a small sense of achievement reserved only for times when something you say results in that sound coming from this new friend. You know it's something else you should probably be ignoring too, but you can't. And why not let yourself have this one thing? It's not like it means anything more than you enjoy making people laugh.

You walk around to the passenger side of the car and open the door before looking back over the roof at her, "now didn't you promise me a beer if I endured the baseball hell?"

"I don't think I promised you anything." You know she's teasing you and as she joins you in the car, she smiles that stupid damn smile again. "But seeing as you've risked your life to be with me tonight…"

"Shut up!"

She starts to giggle uncontrollably again and the sound makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You curse your hormones for defying your ignorance of feeling such things and try to focus on returning them to their usual, non-interested, non-aroused selves.

"I thought police officers were supposed to be the athletic type."

"Nah," you breathe out. "We just sit around drinking coffee and eating donuts. Don't you watch tv?"

She's still laughing as she starts the ignition and puts her car into drive. With a quick glance at you first, she pulls out of the car park and towards somewhere you hope sells beer. And fries, they'd be good too. "You know," she starts, her eyes firmly on the road in front. "You should probably start cutting down on those donuts."

"You're mean." Despite your protests, you're smiling too. You enjoy this banter that flows so easily between the two of you. It's rare, that you find anyone you can connect with so comfortably. That's why you're ignoring these flips in your stomach. You don't want to think about any possible reason as to why you'd have to stop enjoying this.

You drive in silence, just the radio on low in the back ground for only five minutes or so before slowing to park out the front of a nearby diner. You recognise the place, having patrolled round here a few times but you've never been in. The way Holly gets out swiftly and is almost impatiently waiting for you to get out too so she can lock the car, suggests she's not only been before but that she's desperate to get in. Once the cars locked and you've joined her on the sidewalk, she's looping her arm through yours and practically dragging you towards the door.

"Jeez, hungry much?" You joke, struggling to keep up with her.

"Just you wait 'til you try the burgers in this place. I guarantee you, the best burger you've ever eaten." She pushes the door open, but pauses to hold it wide for you so you can enter first. There's an empty booth by the window and you grab it, sliding in along the vinyl seat and picking up a menu. Holly sits opposite, shrugging her jacket off. "Honestly, be prepared to thank me."

You roll your eyes, "has anyone ever told you how modest you are?"

She just grins, picking up her own menu and perusing. She bites down on her bottom lip gently and she chooses which burger to go for, and you find yourself only able to watch her, not pick your own. You realise, then and there, that you're getting in over your head with this.

You can't remember the last time you had a night where you laughed this much. Sure, you'd complained when you'd pulled up in the parking lot at the batting cages. And yes, you'd whined and moaned and dealt out more than your fair share of sarcastic comments. But that was your way. That's who you are.

You're bitter and closed off. You don't like people - no that's not right, you do like people of course you do. But you don't like depending on people. You don't like needing people. You're independent. Fiercely so. You've had to be. It's something you've had to develop; a defence mechanism built up over the years. Growing up in the Peck household, if you didn't have your walls up constantly then you've had fallen and crumbled years ago.

But ever since Holly strode through the woods and into your life, things have been different. You've been different. You're not entirely sure why, you have an inkling, you're not that detached from your feelings, but you don't want to admit that your new outlook on life is completely down to this girl. This girl that you'd forgone another blind date to hang out with playing sports or all things. This girl that kissed you in a coat closet. This girl that spouted science blah, blah, blah at you and you uncharacteristically didn't care one single bit.

"Have you picked?" Holly's question pulls you back to the here and now, and you realise she's grinning at you. Somewhere between getting into the car at the cages and now, she's released her hair from her ponytail and its hanging loose around her shoulders. You like it like that, you realise. Then try desperately to push that thought from your head.

"There's too many," you moan, back in character. At that exact moment, a waitress appears at your table, pen in hand poised over a blank pad, asking for your order. Holly laughs and then looks at you pointedly. All you manage is a shrug and turn back to the menu. Undeterred however, Holly takes it upon herself to order you both a beer and something called Bruce's Bonus Burger.

"Ordering for me now are you?"

"Another tip for you, don't ever keep a girl from her burger," she winks.

"And who the hell is Bruce?" You pick the menu back up and for the first time, actually read the list of burgers available. The option Holly had chosen for you both was by far the biggest on there and you're once again impressed. You'd eaten a total of three meals in the presence of this woman, and every time you'd pretty much watched on in awe at the amount of food she'd been able to put away. In awe and with a little jealousy. The frame you'd raked your eyes over swinging at baseballs an hour ago was not one that screamed out massive burger eating addict.

Quite the opposite in fact.

You force yourself to ignore that thought too, and glance around the diner in search of the waitress with your much needed beer. No sign. Another tactic's required. "It sounds like you're the one who could do with cutting down Hol."

"Calling me fat Officer Peck?" There's that twinkle in her eye. The one you've seen before when you've been bantering like this. The one that tells you she enjoys it as much as you do.

You shrug, and raise your eyebrows. Two bottles of beer are placed on the table between you both and you grab for one, taking a large swig and relishing in the immediate calming effect it has. "I'm just saying," you tease with a smile, happier and feeling safer with a beer in your hands. "That body of yours won't last forever, eating Bonus Burgers."

"Have you been eying up my body Gail?"

It's an innocent enough question. But the way Holly was looking at you over the top of her bottle was nowhere near innocent. Suddenly you don't feel so calm. Suddenly your mouth is dry and your palms are sweaty and all those flips in your stomach you've experienced tonight have all cumulated into one giant flock of butterflies.

You take another mouthful, hoping that it might at least help your dry mouth. "So what if I have?"

When your voice comes, you're shocked at the husk behind it. And judging by the look that passes over Holly's face so is she. Shit. You drop your eyes to your lap, and pull at a loose thread hanging from the hem of your sweater.

Holly's come back is quiet and soft, and causes your head to spin more than if she'd come back with something flirty. "Gail? Are you okay?"

You'd love to be able to answer truthfully. You'd love be able to just look up and tell her that you're scared and confused but at the same time probably the closest to okay that you've been in a long time. You'd love to be able to meet her eyes and tell her that you've struggled to think of anyone but her since she kissed you. You'd love to be able to reach for her hand and ask for her to help you figure this out and that you want to have more nights like this one because it's been the most fun you've had in ages.

But you're not that brave.

So instead you look up, take a swig and cast your eyes around the half empty diner. "Where the hell are those burgers?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your kind words already. They mean a lot.**

**Without further hesitation - here we go again.**

* * *

You don't remember calling her, or asking for her to be called, but you must have done one of those because she's there.

And in that moment you didn't want to see anyone more.

There are tears in your eyes and your head is still filled the fluffy haze from that Oxy-whatever they gave you. There's a dull sting in your wrist, and all these emotions and feelings are making your head hurt. Then suddenly over Andy's shoulder there she is.

Glasses pushed up on the top of her head and smile relaxed; when she catches your eye it's all it takes to calm you down. What happened, or what is happening between Nick and Andy doesn't matter. It's done.

You say your goodbyes to McNally, citing some line about real friends which later, when you recall this alone you'll be impressed with yourself for. Holly's smile widens when you approach and you can see the concern in her eyes. Your stomach flips but the Oxy-stuff kills any urge you have to ignore it. Its good stuff this.

"Hey," she half whispers.

"Hey, let's get out of here."

You've rounded two corners of lino floored hospital corridors in silence before she speaks. It's soft and cautious. "So erm, how… how are you feeling?"

There's a hidden depth to her question that you're sure is there, but you don't know how to tackle that one right now. You're too dazed. And not just because of the pills. "I nearly burnt my hand off," is how you decide to go. It's easy and you can fill it with sarcasm. "With like super strong chemical stuff. How do you think I'm feeling?"

She giggles lightly, "that super strong chemical stuff you refer to, was probably some concentration of sulphuric acid. It's highly corrosive and can cause…"

"Hol, stop with the words."

"Sorry."

"You're smart you know?"

"Yeah, I know." She smiles and pauses for a second. "That's the first time you've said something like that and not insinuated that I'm a nerd. Are you softening up Officer?"

Rolling your eyes you reply with you usual quickness, "it must be the meds."

Maybe you are softening. You hadn't wanted to call her a nerd or a dork or a geek. You genuinely wanted to let her know you thought she was smart, and you like that she's smart. It makes you feel some sense of pride. This girl is super smart and it makes you feel proud that she's your friend.

The cool evening air hits you the second you walk through the glass doors of the hospital and you automatically pull your jacket tighter around your body. As you do so however, you brush too hard against your wrapped wrist and you wince as the pain shoots through you. Holly's hand is immediately on your upper arm and she's stops you both, meeting your eyes. That concern is back, written all over her face and you can't deal with that and everything else right now. So you avert your gaze and look around the parking lot for her car.

"I'm okay," you offer as you start walking again, hoping Holly will just follow. "I just knocked it."

You can still feel her eyes on you but hear her feet on the asphalt as she returns to her place walking beside you. "I'm parked over here. Come on let me take you back home. Are your flat mates in?"

"They're both on shift," you remember and say aloud.

Holly's silent for a moment and you reach the back of her car before she speaks again, pulling her car keys from her pocket and turning her attention to the lock so you can't see her face. "Well, I'm not leaving you on your own whilst you're coming off the meds. You can come back to mine."

You start to protest. Weakly telling her you don't want to put her out or be any bother. As you both climb into the car, she cuts you off. "Gail, you're coming home with me so I can keep an eye on you. It's been a long day and anyways, you shouldn't be on your own whilst the Oxycodone is wearing off."

The look on her face tells you not to argue this time. In fact it's actually pretty scary. And you don't have energy. Instead, you let out a sigh and tip your head back against the seat, letting your eyes close. You can feel Holly's eyes on you briefly but she doesn't say anything more and you keep yours shut. When the engine starts, you speak, just loud enough to be heard. "It's been a really freaking long day."

Holly's apartment, you realise as she pulls off the road on to a drive way, isn't too far from the coffee shop you'd met her at last week for a rare Sunday brunch. It's a nice area of the city. You find yourself feeling glad Holly lived somewhere safe and away from trouble. Wordlessly, the two of you make your way towards the building and she leads you in and up to her door. Her neighbour opposite is on her way out, locking her door. She exchanges hellos and raises her eyebrows at the sight of a cop stood in the hallway. Holly follows her eyes, which are currently looking your slightly dishevelled but uniformed state up and down. You both speak at the same.

"She's a friend," Holly explains.

"I'm off duty," you fire out, at what you'd probably consider low to medium level aggression.

Once you're both inside the apartment and Holly's closed the door behind you, flicking the dead lock across, which again fills you with a sense of ease, she turns to you. "Mrs Wilkinson seems to like you," she jokes gently but you know it's her way of scolding you for being so abrasive.

"She was looking at me funny," you say by way of excuse, and even you know it's weak.

"Yeah, well you do look a bit funny."

Your hands automatically shoot up to your eyes which you know must still be red and puffy. Damn pale skin. And you rub at them roughly. Holly takes a step toward you and goes to reach out for your hands but thinks better of it and stops herself. You drop them anyway and the two of you stand in a silent face off for a heartbeat. "I'm sorry," she apologises softly. "You don't look funny. You look like someone who needs to take that bulky jacket off and have a warm drink and rest."

"Yeah," is all you manage and start to shrug your jacket off. It feels better without it on, without its bulk you feel lighter. Holly takes it from you without you asking so and hangs it up on a hook beside hers. When she turns back to you, you're untying your heavy boots, but her eyes are drawn straight to the now exposed bandage on your wrist.

As you stand back up, now with your shoes removed and kicked to the side, you can tell she wants to stay something. For the second time in as many minutes she's holding back on you, and you find it both infuriating and oddly soothing. It's somewhat calming to know that this friendship of the two of yours is causing her these kind of feelings too.

Instead, she gestures in to the rest of the flat and you realise you've just been stood in the entrance way without seeing the rest of the place. "Do you want the tour? Or just to crash out? I can have the guest room made up in a few minutes."

"You have a guest room?" You ask, incredulous. "In the city?"

"It doubles as an office for me to work out of when I don't need to be in the lab," she explains. When you don't come back with some retort she carries on. "It gives me space to write, you know research papers and pieces for pathology journals?"

You don't know, not really, science has never been your thing. But you remember that first afternoon in the lab, the day you met when you were read the magazine you'd found lying around. The article had her name in the by-line. Because Holly is smart, really smart. Holly knows how to put skeletons back together and how bodies respond to gunshot wounds and what chemicals are in industrial drain cleaner. You really like that Holly is smart, and you don't really know what to do with that fact.

Intrigued by what the apartment holds, and what she can learn about its owner, you walk past Holly and through into the living area. The place screams Holly, or at least what you already know about her. There's books everywhere you look, and an impressive CD collection, and photographs on every spare surface. You pick one up from the nearest shelf; it's of Holly and two girls that look exactly like her just older.

"My sisters," she says from behind you and you turn to find she's followed you in and has been watching you take in the room. You didn't know she has sisters, and put the frame back down where you found it. There's a funny feeling in your stomach, that you think has something to do with finding out you don't know everything about this girl.

Those feelings are getting harder to ignore.

* * *

It's the early morning sun streaming through the blinds that wakes you; although you can't say that you'd slept well. The night had been full of tossing and turning. An hour of sleep here, maybe another there. Mostly you'd just lain awake; your mind racing off at a thousand miles an hour replaying the last twenty four hours.

When the ray of pale sunlight hits you between the eyes, you actually feel more exhausted than when you'd crawled into bed late last night after sharing a pizza with Holly.

Holly.

That's where you were now. Holly's. In her spare room. Wrapped up in her spare sheets. Whilst she's asleep less than 10 feet away on the other side of the wall.

Holly.

The two of you had sat up last night, talking about nothing in particular. Hockey and work and some band you'd heard on the radio. She'd told you about her sisters, and her sisters' husbands, and her sisters' children. You'd sat and listened, not really offering any of your own family stories. You'd enjoyed listening, enjoyed learning about her.

And you stopped trying to ignore those stupid feelings, just for one night. As the Oxy-whatsit wore off, it was easier just to feel.

Rubbing the stress from your temples, you swing your legs out of the bed and start pulling on yesterday's uniform. Your wrist is smarting and there's a dull pain right at the front of your head, but the first thing you want to do, more than take a shower or find painkillers, is get the hell out of there.

You have to be back at the station in two hours, and you can't shake that impending sense of doom you get when there are undeniably busy days' policing ahead. It's so far from you need right now and it makes your head ache more.

There's no sound coming from Holly's room so you assume she's still safely in the world of nod and head straight for your boots and jacket. It takes all the strength you have left to push the feelings of guilt to the back of your mind. Running from her flat, whilst she's still fast asleep, Holly doesn't deserve this.

Not even close.

Not when she took care of you last night, offering you a place to run to; someone to run to. Not when she ordered your favourite pizza and made tea. Not when she changed the dressing on your burnt arm and took extra special care when applying some cream that she promised would make it heal faster. Not when she became the first person to put you first in a very long time.

It makes your head spin and your stomach lurch. You feel like a jerk, a huge selfish jerk, but you're used to that feeling by now. Self-depreciation is a feeling you can handle.

As you let yourself out of the apartment and practically skip down the stairs for freedom, you have to remind yourself that you're supposed to be ignoring these intense and difficult feelings. You keep telling yourself that on the cold walk home. And in the shower. And as you sit at the station listening to Frank brief the new operation.

Your head's almost in the game when Traci calls you to join her team, but when she mentions that they're waiting on some DNA results from the lab before the can make a concrete ID, your resolve unravels immediately.

You have your phone in your hand in seconds, ignoring Traci's intrigued eyes as you tap out a text.

_To Holly: I'm sorry. X_


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, thanks for the love so far you beautiful people.**

**Here we go... Read, enjoy, let me know what you think.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its' characters but if I did I'd insist on Officer Peck wearing nothing but that darn uniform.**

* * *

"My mind is tellin' me no…"

You're aware that you're singing. Loudly. But you couldn't care less. In fact, as you pull open the door to the fridge and reach for a bottle of beer, you only get louder. "But my body, _my boooddddyy's, _telling me yesss."

You unscrew the cap and take a quick mouthful, taking a step back and pushing the fridge door closed with your hip. "I don't want to hurt nobody, but there is something that I must confesssssssssssssssss…"

"Are you singing R Kelly?"

You spin on the spot to find Dov, eyebrows raised and grinning, leaning against the doorjamb. Instead of stopping, or even throwing back with a snarky comment, you sing louder still and dance towards him, shaking your ass a little.

"I don't see nothing wrooong with a little bump and grind…"

Dov is biting back a grin that just spurs you on. You laugh, throatily and deeper than you have in days. It had been a tough week. But you're not thinking about that now. Nope, that would mean dwelling on all-nighters and seeing Nick fawn over Andy. Where's the fun in that? So today, you're drinking beer and singing R Kelly. And grinding, badly, in front of your flat mate.

"No, I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and griiiiiiiiiiiiiiinndddddddd!"

"Are you going to explain what the hell has got into today?" Dov pushed himself up and stepped round you to grab his own beer. "You're awfully, I don't know, cheerful?!"

"Am I not allowed to be cheerful?" You question with a smirk and hop up to sit on the kitchen surface. Dov just stares at you, eyebrow quirked. You throw your free hand up in the air in exasperation. "I'm just happy. Chris is back. You're all loved up with Chloe. My brother is wining and dining Traci. Life is beautiful, Dov, life is beautiful."

"Who are you and what have you done with Gail?"

You pick up a dishcloth from the draining board and throw it. It hits Dov square in the face. Giggling a little and swigging your beer, you just ignore the accusations. Its fun to wind Dov up, and you know this will seriously infuriate him; but you're mainly ignoring them because you don't have the first clue what had got into you.

Work had been a bitch lately. Long hours and very little escape. You'd had very little sleep when you had had the chance to go home thanks to not being able to get a certain forensic pathologist off your mind. It was driving you crazy.

There'd been a few texts exchanged after your sleep over and dash, but you hadn't seen anything of her. You'd upset her. That much was obvious. Her texts were short and blunt, but she still asked if you were okay. There had been no more suggestions of hanging out, which bothered you more than you care to think about it. You hadn't suggested anything out of fear. And maybe a little spite. For some reason you'd gotten it into your head that she should come to you. You weren't sure why, you just decided that was what should happen.

Then last night, after a few too many of Chris' homemade cocktails, you'd sent one message. One you probably shouldn't have sent, seeing as it went against your 'ignorance is bliss' mentality. But you sent it anyway. Tucked away in the safe haven of your bed, your head swimming with too much liquor, you'd tapped it out without thinking and just clicked send.

It was that easy.

You hadn't heard anything back. Not yet. But you're going to try not to let that bother you. Chris was insisting on a trip to the Penny tonight and also that you play nice with Chloe. You smile to yourself, trying to figure out what's worse – playing nice with Chloe or not having heard from Holly.

That one was easy too. Not hearing anything from Holly in the last… you pull out your phone to check the time… 16 hours was definitely more torturous.

Dov's still looking at quizzically when you start playing with your phone and humming the rest of R Kelly. "There's something wrong with you," he starts as he twists off the top of the beer that he'd just been holding whilst staring at you. "It's creepy."

It easy to ignore to him, people call you creepy or bitchy or mean or horrible all the time; you're used to it. Instead you pull up your message history with Holly and re-read the message you'd sent last night for easily the twenty-seventh time:

_To Holly: 6 days without nerd exposure? I miss you. I've had a shit week – wanna go for a drink? I promise to be nice. Hope you've had a good week with the stiffs. XXX_

Shit. Holly's definitely ignoring you.

* * *

You can be pretty sure of yourself sometimes. You know that. Some people think its arrogance, over confidence, but you know the real reasons. A lifetime spent growing up in the shadow of your surname will do that to you. And in those rare occasions where someone gets close enough to you to see the real you; they quickly see that it's mainly all for show.

What you are sure of though, is that you are definitely hotter than the girl sat in the booth with Holly right now. That _someone_ someone.

Seriously, is that Holly's type?

Because she can do better than her. You're definitely sure of that.

When Holly walked into the Penny, you heart genuinely leapt up into your throat and started thumping so furiously you could feel it in the tips of your ears. It seems stupid now, you want to kick yourself in fact, but you actually thought she was here for you. Because of your message last night. Instead you made a fool of yourself in front of her.

But that's not the most overwhelming emotion you're feeling right now. Far freaking from it. Oh no, you're sure you've made a fool of yourself in front of Holly before; the batting cages immediately comes to mind. Embarrassment isn't the reason you're drinking Jack and Cokes like its no-one's business.

What you're realising right now, sat watching Holly over the top of the Dov-Chloe make out fest, is that you're jealous.

Massively, insanely jealous.

Holly's laughing with this girl. She's touching her arm and she's smiling and they haven't had a single lull in conversation since they sat down. And you're sat with King and Queen Dork and your depressed ex. Who's winning at life right now?

Truth be told, the fact that you're clearly hotter than this someone is not what's bothering you most. Nor is it that she's making Holly laugh. You can definitely make Holly laugh louder and more hysterically than that. What's really driving you insane has less to do with this someone, and a lot more to do with you.

Which you hate.

Diaz puts another drink in front of you, and you just manage to mutter your thanks before picking it up and chewing on the drinking straw. You've lost count of how many you've put away already. And you don't have any plans to stop quite yet. Not whilst Holly is still here with that someone.

You'd much rather be here beating yourself up, than back home beating yourself up where you can't keep an eye on them both. At least if you're here, you can't let your mind run off imagining what kind of romantic entanglement they might be getting caught up in. At least if you're here, you can be sure that it stays innocent.

And at least if you're here, you can keep kicking yourself in the comfort of alcohol for messing this up already.

It should be you having a drink with Holly tonight. If you hadn't have run away the other morning, if you hadn't gone off the radar and had spoken to her about it all instead. If you'd text her earlier, or less cryptically. If you'd gone back over there to Holly's, or to the lab, or to the morgue, sometime between then and now, and just been honest with her.

It should be you making her laugh, and being touched like that, and smiling together and chatting and flirting. It should all be you.

Maybe if you were like Chloe, and you believed in romance and all that mushy crap then you'd have it in you to just get up and go over there. Or you'd catch her at the bar and be smooth and suave, and tell her that she should be drinking with you instead.

Then again if you were like Chloe, you'd probably shoot yourself.

* * *

"Same again."

The guy behind the bar nods at you in his usual non-descript way and starts going about making your drinks. You're starting to feel the buzz from all the Jack but it's not helping. You need more. You'll continue to need more whilst Holly is _still_ here with that someone.

You've been distant, you know that. Before you were at least trying to play along with the dumb trivia game, but then bam, Holly arrived and you couldn't focus on any more questions about 80s super-groups or day time TV programs. You were quiet and couldn't care less who was the bigger geek out of Dov and Chloe.

Your focus was well and truly on the other side of the bar and the green eyed monster that was threatening to tear out of your chest, full on Alien style.

"Having a good night?" You almost fall over thanks to the speed you spin round. Holly raises an eyebrow and smirks. "I'll take that as a yes."

You don't answer her question and chose to throw one back instead, "how's the date?"

You do your best to keep your voice as level as possible, but you can't meet her eyes. You wouldn't be able to hide your emotions if you did. It's only been weeks, but this girl has seen a part of you that no one ever has before; and this girl has the ability to make you see that part of you too.

Holly leans on the bar beside you, her weight on her forearms. She looks down at them first and then tilts her head to look at you. You still can't meet her eyes. "It's alright, she's nice, you know?"

Nice?

Part of you wants to go over there and claw this someone's eyes out for being nice. Part of you is singing inside because Holly just described this girl as nice, and everyone knows that nice is what you call people who just don't interest you. Score one to Peck.

The bar guy places your order down in front of you on the bar and you grab for yours straight away. Holly doesn't fail to notice. "Thirsty?"

"Parched."

She looks you up and down so quick you almost miss it. But you don't. Cop instincts and all. You pick up your tray of drinks and give her another second to say something. When it's clear she's staying quiet you go for it again.

"Well I better let you get back to your date," you stress the last two words and watch Holly react appropriately, dropping her gaze to the floor and kicking the bar with the toe of her boot. You start towards your table. Still feeling brave from the 'nice' comment, you turn back after a couple of steps. "Oh and Hol, it is polite to text people back you know?"


	4. Chapter 4

**The reviews and traffic so far have blown my mind - thank you so much.**

**I know I said I was going to write missing scenes, but I couldn't not touch this one. I started writing and this just fell on to the page. We all know what's coming so I won't keep you any longer.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or it's beautiful characters. If I did we'd all be worshiping Gail Peck, the God of sarcasm and blunt wit.**

* * *

You're glad you were riding with Oliver today.

When Andy's radio call came through, her panicked voice telling you that Chloe had been shot, that they were still taking fire; you were glad of his calm exterior and steely determination getting you to their aid as fast as humanely possible.

When you arrived at the park and Chloe was laid on the ground, with blood all over her neck and a hole in the front of her vest, struggling to breathe and stay conscious; you were glad Oliver knew what he was doing and took immediate charge of the situation.

When you were driving round town and you started to dwell on friends in hospital beds; you were glad of his reassuring words.

When you took fire on Logan; you were glad of his fearless driving and the firm hand on your shoulder pushing you down, keeping you safe as he removed you both from danger quickly and smoothly.

You know what you sign up to every morning when you pull on this uniform. You've grown up surrounded by words like 'duty' and 'service' and 'honour'. It's never escaped you that there's a reason you wear a vest and carry a gun. There's always a risk, you're well aware of that. After an entire lifetime growing up in a cop family, you've heard the stories. Even in your own short police career you've been witness first hand to the need for vests and guns.

But today was scary. Feel it in your bones, heart racing, life affirming scary.

And you've never been so glad you were riding with Oliver.

When you spot Holly in the corridors back at 15, you're a different kind of scared. The way you'd left things the night before at the bar, had been awkward and you were drunk. She still hadn't text you back, but you hadn't had the time to think about that today. As you get closer, you realise she looks scared too.

It's new. You've never seen her look scared or anxious or nervous before. It makes you feel something deep in your chest that mixes uncomfortably with all the emotions from the day so far.

You want to make sure she's okay, you want to protect her. You're not sure why, but today's not the kind of day where you're going to stop to think about that. Putting on your best relaxed attitude, the type they tell you in the Academy that you have to maintain in times of crisis, you approach her. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just had to drop of a report. It's for a case from a couple of weeks ago."

It's an excuse. You can tell straight away. And a bad one at that. Despite the weight of the moment, you want to laugh and remind Holly that you're a cop and you can't lie to her that badly without you picking up on it. You don't though. You let her have this one. You know something is bothering her and you'll be damned if you don't get to the bottom of it. Serve and protect and all that.

"Doesn't the courier usually bring that stuff over?" You ask. Holly knows she's hanging on by a thread. She's smart that girl. You like that.

"Yeah," she tries and it makes you think it's sweet. "He was sick or something?!"

You know you're pulling a face now. You tried to keep a lid on it and allow Holly to have her neurotic melt down or whatever it is, but really? She's killing you.

"Hey," she sighs, giving up. "Come here."

She grabs your arm and pulls you into the nearest interrogation room. You're confused, and Holly's demeanour is sending your brain off whizzing at a million miles an hour. You don't like emotions that make you think like this. It's why you stay away from them.

The room is badly lit, like most of them here at the station, so you stand in front of the glass. Holly turns to look at you, her eyes pouring into you so deeply, you think that she might be able to read your mind. It makes you nervous. And for a split second you actually consider that you'd be better off out on patrol or something. Then you remember who you're up against. Being in a room alone with Holly is a hundred times more appealing than being anywhere else.

"Is it true? It's just, I heard a rumour that there's some freak out there hunting you guys." She's flapping about. She's on edge. She doesn't know what she's doing. The usually cool and collected Holly is all over the place and it creeps you out. What is going on today? Seriously?

You shake your head gently, "Hol, I'm not allowed to talk about this.

It's worth a try, but the way she looks at you then, reminds you that you never had a chance with this girl. Twenty six years of building up this tough and hard persona, and it's completely falling apart thanks to this girl. And now, you realise, in this stupid, dimly lit room at the station you work; you are totally and utterly powerless to stop it.

"There's an officer that was shot, she's in the hospital. And," you pause. You didn't really want to have to think about this, but you have to. For Holly. "A few other officers took fire."

"You mean you." It's not a question. "Someone shot at you. You're going to go back out there?"

You knew this was coming, right from the second you first saw her in the corridor looking like a lost sheep. But you have to tell her, you have to get her to see. "Holly, I'm a police officer."

"That doesn't mean that you have to go out there and put yourself in danger."

She's worried about you; that sinks in then. She doesn't want to think of you in danger. The realisation sends a big fat, warm feeling down your spine and there are another couple of emotions thrown into that uncomfortable mix in your chest. It was getting too chaotic in there to ignore anymore.

"Yeah, it kinda does." You speak slowly. Not because you didn't think she'd understand, but because you were struggling to keep track on what was going on.

Holly - interesting, smart, funny Holly – was here in front of you, telling you, in not so many words, that she's been worried about you. Which would suggest she cares about you, that she's concerned about you staying alive. Which would suggest that she wants you alive.

And the way she's looking at you, with those big expressive brown eyes, it's making you uncomfortable. Not because she's looking at you so much, you actually kind of like that she can't tear her eyes away from you right now. No, what's making you uneasy is the fact that you're the cause of all this worry and stress she's going through.

There's a moment of silence before Holly speaks again, and this time it's different, you can tell.

"Oh. Okay. Well, fine. But li-listen, that girl last night? I barely know her, okay? It was a stupid set up." She meets your eye, looking for some kind of affirmation, but you're struggling to find anything to say at all. Inside you're racing. The fact that Holly is explaining her date, the fact that she feels she has to explain herself, it's making you heart thump against your ribcage. You give one slow shake of your head instead, and try not to look at her lips as she speaks.

It's harder than you think.

"Well anyway," she continues. "I just thought you should know. I don't know why I didn't tell you. I mean, I mean we tell each other stuff right?"

You can't stop yourself. Not when she smiles nervously like that. She's not just interesting and smart and funny. She's adorable, and beautiful. Really freaking beautiful.

"That's what so great, us hanging out."

It's impossible. You can't do it.

You can't ignore it anymore. The words coming out of her mouth hardly register anymore. They just float over you whilst you stare at her. The crazy ass mix of emotions inside of you is threatening to spill over and you just can't stop looking at her fucking lips.

"And I, and I guess that's why I heard what was happening I just thought I should come down here, and I don't know, just make sure you're okay or something…"

That does it.

You grab the side of her head and crash your lips against hers. You're kissing Holly. You're kissing Holly, that's all that's screaming in your head. She came down here to check you were okay and now you're kissing her. And she's kissing you back.

It's tentative at first, but then her hand grips at your arm tighter and you realise that she's in this as much as you are. You realise that at the same time you realise just how much you're in this.

It's over as quick as it begun, but you don't let go of her face. There's a warmth under your hands that you don't want to ignore, nor let go of yet. You look at the floor. Once. Twice. You close your eyes and savour the taste of her on your lips. It does something to you.

Holly's eyes are on you, waiting for you to speak. You struggle to find the words. The silence between you is heavy. It needs to be broken, but you don't know what to say.

You push yourself, you were brave enough to kiss her, you're a cop for Christ's sake; you can be brave enough now. For Holly. You have to be. You shake your head and speak at the same time, "I'm sorry. You just had to stop talking."

"I won't say another word." Her voice is practically a whisper and it stirs that something you're feeling all over again.

You lean in slower this time and Holly meets you half way. There's no urgency behind the way your lips move together, it's not like that this time. It's something else. You stop thinking. You stop ignoring everything. As Holly's hand finds the back of your neck, her fingers finding the soft hairs there, you just let yourself be kissed. You just let yourself feel.

All of the jealousy from last night. All the pent up guilt. And the confusion of feelings of lust. All the fear. All of those stomach flips. You just feel.

And when Holly's tongue meets yours, all those clichés that someone like Chloe would come out with about kissing someone; you finally understand them. It _really is_ like you've died and gone to heaven. It _really is_ like you're having the life breathed back into you. It _really is _better than you've ever imagined.

Holly pulls at you. Holds you closer. You match her. You drop one of your hands from her cheek to her waist, the slip it round to her lower back. You want her as close as possible. In that very moment, you never want to her let her go. If you're both here making out, then you're both safe. Neither of you can get shot at. Neither of you have to worry.

You push yourself onto her. You need to. All you can focus on right now is Holly. The hideous morning has vanished from your memory. You need this. You can't explain it; you don't want to explain it. You just want Holly.

It's the sound of her back hitting the Perspex of viewing window that pulls you both from the kiss inspired stupor. You break this kiss, but make no effort to move away from Holly.

This time you're ignoring the urge to run.

Instead you rest your forehead against hers and take shallow breaths, trying to regain any ounce of composure you can. It's not easy. Not with Holly's arms around you so tightly. Not when she's biting her bottom lip like she is, with her eyes fallen shut. Not when you can hear the chatter of the station on the other side of the door, and it strikes you that you've just been making out with her when you're supposed to be on shift.

Shit, you close your eyes tight, you made out with Holly. A girl. You totally just made out with a girl.

You feel Holly's fingers disentangle from your hair and then tuck a strand that had fallen loose from your ponytail back behind your ear. It's an incredibly tender gesture and it's that, which gives you the courage to speak again.

"Hol?"

So it's not a moving speech, or anxious rambling like Holly's earlier, but it's a start and a start which makes the brunette stop biting her lip and reply. "So, so you're okay then?"

You tilt you head back, just an inch, but so you can see her face better, "you only thought that was okay?"

It's a cheap joke you know that, but it causes a soft chuckle from Holly which is like the best sound you've heard all day. She shakes her head and then learns into kiss you ever so briefly. "You're hilarious, you know that?"

Insane? Hilarious? That's definitely an improvement from the last time when she kissed you. You'll take that. You smile, "I'm a hoot."

"And," she begins and stops again. Her eyes fall shut and you start to worry that she's going to be all ramblingy and flappy again. You're not sure you can handle that. But just as you try to think of ways to stop her going off on another panicky thread, she smirks. "And, you're better than okay."

Your heart stops.

Interesting, smart, funny, adorable, beautiful Holly thinks that you, you, cold, tough, ballsy, mean, closed off Gail is a better than okay kisser. Well isn't that a turn out for the books. Better people would try being modest in situations like this, but you're not like that, so you smirk your best and cheekiest smirk and pull her hips into yours a tiny bit more.

"We can, you know, hang out later." You're feeling brave. And a tad full of yourself. The grin on Holly's face right now will do that to you. Especially when her face is all flustered from all the kissing you guys just did. "You can see how much better than okay I can be."

There's a flash of something that crosses Holly's eyes, "is that a fact?"

You nod, and don't bother even remotely trying to stop your grin from spreading. "I'll text you later, when my shift is done?" You leave it open as a question; despite the joking, she still hasn't said that she definitely wants to hang out.

"Are you going back out there? Have they caught this pyscho?"

"I have to," you speak gently and run your fingers slowly over the fabric of her shirt, absentmindedly deciding you like this colour on her. "We have to do everything we can to catch this guy."

"Right," she nods slowly as if she's letting that point sink in. "Right, you'll be careful yeah?"

"I'll see you later Hol, I promise." You tighten you hold on her waist for a second before releasing and taking a step back so you can leave. "I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**So no more missing scenes. But I'm not giving up yet. **

**Enjoy!**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its characters. If I did Gail Peck would live in my spare room.**

* * *

It's the ease of it all that freaks you out the most. The ease; and how comfortable it feels. It should feel strange, you tell yourself. It shouldn't feel this natural, not this quickly at any rate. It should feel bizarre or weird or something, but instead it just feels normal.

You glance down again; for what seems like the tenth time in two minutes. Your fingers are still entwined; still laying between the two of you on the moulded plastic like it's a perfectly usual occurrence. You don't dare move them or twitch or even flinch. Holly would almost certainly notice. How could she not? How could she not be completely fixated by this sudden hand holding behaviour too?

It hasn't escaped your notice that you're over-analysing. You know that. You also know that friends hold hands all time. Well at least friends, who are girls in the strictly plutonic sense, hold hands. It's not out of the ordinary for two friends to hold hands to feel safe in times of need or crisis, you know that. But what you also know, what you know most of all, is that you're not exactly the type of girl who holds hands with your female friends.

Gail Peck is definitely not the type of girl who does that. Hell, Gail Peck isn't even the kind if girl who has many friends.

Yet here you are. Holding hands. With Holly. And it feels normal. It feels easy. It feels safe. It feels really safe. And that's what scares you most of all.

Much like that kiss earlier in the evening. It had felt like the right thing to do. You'd been waiting for it to happen. That's what scared you. Holly was there, in front of you, showing an unusual insecurity about your wellbeing and all you could think about doing was kissing her. Hard. Holly had shown that she cared, and cared a lot; all you wanted to do was show that you cared that she cared. And maybe, that you cared back.

Holly's thumb ran over your knuckles and pulled you back to reality. Back to the waiting area of the ER. Back to the not so patient faces of your colleagues desperate for news. Back to the world where bad things happened and people got shot. It made you feel guilty. Guilty that's you'd been off in your own world, dwelling on holding hands and secret kisses when Oliver, Sam and Chloe were all currently in hospital beds.

You frown, squeezing Holly's fingers back and not giving two shits that you're sat in front of your brother or Chris. Neither of them had seemed to notice anyway.

You let yourself remember then, the moment at the station earlier. In front of them both, when Holly turned up again, to, how was it she put it, lay eyes on you again. You'd returned to old ways. Cold. Distant. You'd practically slammed the door shut in her face. A matter of hours after your rendezvous in the interview room, you were a bitch and you couldn't control it.

It didn't take a genius like Holly, to see the hurt on her face, and it had killed you.

You hadn't meant it. It was all just too much. Everything happening at work and then kissing Holly and then Oliver going missing. And then she was there again, in 15, when you weren't expecting her. In front of Steve and Chris. It was all just too much. You couldn't deal with it then. Of course you were glad to see her again, you wanted to see her again. Just not then, and there.

For the rest of your shift, it was all you could think about. You wanted your chance to apologise. Your chance to wrap her up in your arms and to put all of what you were feeling into your kisses. You wanted to run away and hide with her, just her, and get well away from all these nightmares.

"Are you okay?" Holly's voice is low and close to your ear. If you think about it hard enough, you can shut everything else out and focus on just her.

"You're here," you tell her as if that's explanation enough.

There's a small smile on her face despite the graveness of the situation. Your stomach flips amongst the sickness you've been feeling since hearing the announcement telling you shots had been fired in 15 that had come over the radios.

"Yeah," she runs her thumb softly over the back of your hand again. It's one of the most affectionate gestures you've ever experienced and it almost brings tears to your eyes again. "I'm here. I had to hold you to your promise, didn't I?"

You have to think harder than you probably usually would have to, but you remember your words when you left the room earlier. The promise to see her later. You'd meant it as a reassurance. You'd said it to stop her worrying. She'd remembered though, and you took that as a good sign. That your words had worked. Leaning into her side a little, you let yourself ignore the noise of the hospital. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind for us tonight."

"It doesn't matter," she says and you honestly believe she means it. "You're safe. Everyone's alive. That's all that matters."

The simplicity of it all warms your heart. It's not a feeling you're very used to.

Before you can think of what to say next, Traci appears with a tray of warm drinks and wordlessly offers you both one. You don't unclasp your joined hands however, and both reach up with the other to grab one. Traci notices, and raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say a word; just sits down beside your brother who automatically wraps his arm around her shoulders. She falls into his side. You raise an eyebrow back and share a sly smile. There'll be time to talk about this later but for now there's comfort to be taken.

* * *

You don't ask where she's taking you.

It's too late and you're too tired for words. All you want to do is sleep, and sleep for hours and hours and hours. You want to make a den with the sheets and covers and hide away in its softness. You want her body beside you, sharing the warmth and comfort.

You can't do that though.

Frank came up to you on your way out, asking if you minded covering some shifts in the morning. You thought of Chloe and Sam and Oliver in hospital beds. You thought of Dov and Andy sleeping in uncomfortable chairs beside them. You even thought of Nick and the look on his face when Andy went into see Sam last night. The answer was always going to be a yes.

You rest your head on the car window on the drive home watching the city whizz by in the dark. Holly doesn't push you to talk. You're glad of that.

It occurs to you that this girl already knows what's best for you and what you need. Its equal parts frightening and exciting. Tonight though, you're too tired, and you try to ignore both the fear and the excitement; instead you keep your head against the cool glass of the window.

It's not until you put into the parking space in front of Holly's building, that you realise that you've been driving that long, you'd been in such a daze.

And it's only then that she decides to break the silence. "Home sweet home."

There's a kind smile on her face, the type that tells you she's really trying to do the right thing. You pull your head off the window then and climb out of the car. Holly joins you on the sidewalk. Another silence falls between you, and it makes you feel awkward and nervous and all kind of other things you can't even begin to place.

If Holly notices, she doesn't give you any sign just reaches for your hand instead.

You take it and let her guide you towards her place.

* * *

"I'll get you something comfier to change in to, go make yourself at home."

You don't move and just stand in the hallway, hands stuffed in pockets and boot scuffing against the floor. You can't explain why, but you feel like your imposing. Holly turns back and sees that you haven't even started to take your jacket off, "Gail?"

Looking up would mean meeting those big brown eyes, so you keep yours trained on the laces of your police issue boots.

There's the soft sound of footsteps on the rug and then her sock clad feet appear in your line of vision; her toes just inches away from yours. You feel her hands on your upper arms next, but still make no effort to move at all.

Her left hand runs up your arm, over the top of your jacket and up to brush the hair from your forehead. "What can I do?" She asks soothingly. Your eyes fall shut.

"I'm tired," you tell her as if it's the biggest development of the day.

Her hand is still deftly brushing your hair back from your face. When she speaks there's an infliction in her voice which makes you forget the sound of Andy's sobbing when she returned to the waiting room. "It has been an eventful day."

"Yeah," you agree. "Eventful."

"Gail, look at me."

"I can't," you say quietly and you're not at all sure where it came from. You didn't even realise that's how you felt until the words fell from your mouth. Her hand stops moving against your hair and you want to kick yourself. You've said the wrong thing again, haven't you?

"Why not?" There's an element of hurt in her voice that makes you forget the fact that Dov looked like a little boy lost when you found him outside Chloe's ICU room.

You don't fully know what you're doing; you don't feel in control of the words inside of you anymore. That's what being around this girl does to you. And when she's stood the close, her hands on you and the scent of her coconut shampoo is filling your nose and overloading your senses, you have absolutely no idea what's about to come out of your mouth next.

But then, going on your instincts has worked out pretty well today.

"I can't look at you Hol," you find yourself telling her in a quiet but firm voice. "Because if I do, I'm gunna want to kiss you again. Because that's all I've been able to think about this afternoon. And all evening too. But I don't know what that means."

Well, well, that shocks you.

And you guess it shocks Holly too, because she drops her hand from your hairline and you feel a split second of disappointment, before you feel it again against your cheek.

"Gail, look at me," she repeats a little firmer and starts to slowly lift your face up.

"Hol…" you start to protest.

"I've wanted to kiss you again since the second I left the station earlier, you know that?" You didn't know that. That's a good thing to know. "I know this thing, it scares you."

That's because Holly's smart you tell yourself. Holly's really, really smart and you like that. And because she's smart, you let her lift your face until your eyes meet. You really like her eyes, you decide then. They fill you with a certain something.

She continues, matter-of-factly, "you kissed me today Officer Peck."

You smile slightly as the memory of Holly's body against yours comes back to you, her tongue in your mouth, her hand on your neck. "Yeah, I did. I had to. You wouldn't shut up."

She laughs, drops both her hands to the zipper on your coat and slowly tugs it downwards. "Are you always going to kiss me when I talk too much?"

"Probably," you nod and you just can't fight it anymore. You close the gap between the two of you and kiss her again. It's slow and tentative; the kind of kiss shared by two people just starting to get used to one another. You like it. When you pull apart, there's a goofy grin on both of your faces. "You do talk an awful lot sometimes."

"We can't all be as chatty as you," she teases. You roll your eyes. "Now get that jacket off. I'll grab you some sweats and see what's in the fridge. I can't promise anything gourmet. In fact I probably can't promise anything more than grilled cheese. I was supposed to go to the store today but something distracted…"

You kiss her again.

"Holly, shut up."

She laughs and the sound makes it all disappear. The fear. The tiredness. The anxiousness. The confusion. The overwhelming urge to run. Instead, you remove your jacket and boots and follow Holly into her bedroom.

You didn't go in here last time you were here. It's tastefully decorated, like a proper grown-up's bedroom. Not like yours with unmatching bed sheets and an overflowing laundry basket and clothes threatening to explode from your wardrobe. You feel a bit embarrassed thinking about it and make a mental note to tidy it up before you let Holly see it.

Then you realise you're thinking about taking Holly to your bedroom and suddenly feel a little flustered.

Holly is rummaging in a drawer when you enter and you just stand and wait, taking in the room and trying not to stare at her ass. It's not an easy job. You start to wonder how it was that you're ignored all those kind of feelings for so long.

Before you can lose yourself dwelling on wasted time, Holly stands and turns with a pair of checked pyjama bottoms and a tshirt in her hands. She smiles at the sight of you stood in the middle of the room and throws them at you. Thankfully you manage to catch both items of clothing without embarrassment. "Go put those on; you must have had that uniform on for hours."

You don't miss the way she looks you up and down and you'll be damned if you miss the chance to get one up on her. "Not a fan of the uniform Hol?"

She drops her eyes to the floor quickly before looking straight at you pointedly. There's a wicked glint in her eyes. "Much bigger fan of you out of it," she fires back and actually sticks her tongue out at you. "I'll go find us something to eat."

You change in the bathroom and take the opportunity to splash some cold water on your face. The back and forth banter with Holly is doing things to you. No-one's ever been able to match you play for play like that before. No-one's been able to give back as good as you throw at them and it drives you up the wall. In a good way. In a very, _very_ good way.

She's well and truly an enigma.

Checking your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you realise how exhausted you look. Holly had been right earlier; it had been an eventful day, a long and eventful day, and it had totally taken it out of you. You look like shit.

Why Holly wants to kiss you so much when you look so tired and worn out, you have absolutely no idea. You look down at yourself then, the loose pyjama bottoms hanging off your hips and the white plain tshirt that she'd leant you. It makes your skin look even paler. You can't help but wonder then, what it is Holly sees in you. She must have her pick of girls. Someone as smart and as beautiful as her, there must be loads of girls throwing themselves at her. The green eyed monster inside of you makes itself known, but you try your best to ignore it.

There must be loads of girls who fancy Holly. They'd be stupid not to, you think. And you bet, as you reach for a hairbrush on the side and start tidying your ponytail, there must be loads of girls who fancy Holly that are completely happy with their sexually. Out and proud girls who don't come with a world of baggage.

Or get shot at and make her worry.

* * *

When your phone starts ringing, you both stop eating immediately and turn to stare at it buzzing away on the coffee table. You move in slow motion, placing your plate down on the arm of the sofa, where the two of you were sat facing one another, and pick it up. It's your brother.

"Steve?" Your voice is suddenly full of panic again.

"You okay little sister?"

"Yeah. What's wrong? Is everything okay? Is it Sam? Or Chloe?"

You can't help it. Out of all your family members, you only really speak to brother on a regular basis on the phone. And by regular, it's more like once every two weeks. If that. You see each other at the station, exchange a few pleasantries. But you don't talk to your family unless you really have to; and you avoid situations where you have to as much as possible.

"Everyone's fine, Gail," you can hear him chuckling softly down the line. "I just thought you'd like to know Sam's awake."

Your breath catches in your throat with relief. "He's okay?"

"He's out of the woods at least. Stable. Looks like he's gunna be just fine. Traci and I are just leaving the hospital."

A weak smile tugs at your lips, "you and Traci huh?"

There's a pleasant silence between you then. Steve doesn't need to say anything to confirm that there's something budding happening between them, nor does he mention anything about what he saw between you and Holly at the hospital. You enjoy the silence for a second more before breaking it.

"Have you heard anything about Chloe?"

"Chris went to find Dov a little while ago. I'm not sure what's happening, but I don't think he's being allowed to see her or find out what's going on."

"That's bullshit," you bite and Holly places a calming hand on your knee. It works. "I'll text Chris then. Are you on tomorrow?"

"11."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Say hi to Trace for me," you turn back to Holly and raise your eyebrows. About fifteen minutes earlier she'd asked what was going on between the two of them. It had made you a little bit uncomfortable when Holly had suggested that your best friend was probably jumping into bed with your brother at that point in time.

"Take care little sister. Or at least make sure that doc of yours takes care of you." And with that the line goes dead. You stare incredulously at the handset for a couple of seconds before laughing and throwing it back down on the table.

You sit back on the sofa in your former position, facing Holly with your knees tucked up in front of you and pick up the remainder of your grilled cheese before speaking with the best adorable grin you can manage, "my brother says you have to take care of me please."


	6. Chapter 6

**Normality has ensued and I'm back at work so updates may be a little less regular. I will try find as much time as possible to write though - it's calming me.**

**Another update of mainly fluff and angst.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its characters. If I did my entire life would be full of Gail Peck fluff and angst.**

* * *

You're not a cuddly sleeper. In fact you'll usually do anything to avoid being cuddled up to in your sleep. You don't like being touched at your most vulnerable. Even with Nick, you'd move away from him before falling asleep. You normally sleep on the edge of the bed, facing outwards, you're happier that way.

But when your alarm goes off, the first thing you notice is that there's an arm across your midriff.

A long, slender, tanned arm wrapped around you reasonably tightly; its fingers clenching at the fabric of the tshirt you'd fallen asleep in. The littlest finger skimming under the tshirt's hem and ghosting against your stomach.

The second thing you notice is that you're actually quite comfortable like this.

Holly's head is resting in the crook of your shoulder, her dark hair fanned out across your chest. You want to run your fingers through it, but just as you build up the courage to do so, she shifts and moves her head on to the pillow beside yours.

"Gail, turn it off." Her voice is thick with sleep and it brings a whole new meaning to the term husky. It's one of the sexiest things you've ever heard. So much so it takes you another moment before you can pull yourself together enough to reach over to the nightstand to switch the alarm on your phone off.

"Sorry," you mumble and roll onto your side to face her. "I have to get up."

She nods against the pillow as if she understands but at the exact same time drops her arm over your waist again and pulls you closer. "What if I don't want you to?"

Your heart starts beating faster and you think back to the previous night; about how you'd ended up here at Holly's and then here in her bed. In Holly's bed, wearing Holly's clothes and wrapped in her expensive sheets. It had been one hell of a last twenty four hours. Yesterday you'd woken up with a minor hangover and a case of serious jealousy about Holly going on dates, now you were here.

* * *

_At some point, when the empty plates are cleared away and Holly has put something mindless on the TV, you decide you can't hold back anymore and scoot up the sofa to be closer to her. It's probably the most un-Gail thing you've ever done in front of her (other than kiss her of course) and she realises that judging by the slight surprise on her face. For her credit, she recovers it quickly and just lifts her arm so you can snuggle into her side. Which you do. _

_You don't want to think about what any of this means, but after the day you've had, all you want is to be held by her. It's not like you to want to be held by anyone, but then this girl is making you want all kind of things that aren't very you._

_Her hand rests on your upper arm, her thumb just tucking under the sleeve of your tshirt. It's comforting and makes your eyes drift shut as she runs it back and forth. Your head is resting on her chest, just in at her shoulder and you can feel her heartbeat through the sweatshirt she'd changed into. _

"_Gail?" Her voice can just be heard above the sound of the TV and the tone of it worries you. It sounds awfully like she wants to have a serious conversation. You make a noise showing you were listening, but hopefully also that you were too comfy to get in too deep right now. "Are you... Is this... I mean, what are we doing?"_

_You sigh against her chest, "We're snuggled up on the sofa in front of the telly."_

"_Gail."_

"_I know Hol," you say gently. Your hand has found the bottom of her sweatshirt and has tangled itself up in the soft fabric there. "I know we have stuff to, you know, talk about and I have to, I have to work some things out. About me. About you. But for tonight, can't we just be?"_

_Holly's hand doesn't still on your arm and you feel her lips press a light kiss to your hairline. "Yeah, we can just be."_

_You sit like that for a while. Just the two of you, and you don't let the ease or the comfort of it scare you. You just let it be. No thinking. Although, laying this close to Holly, touching her in this way, it's hard to have any line of comprehensible thought anyway. You keep your eyes closed and just be. It's the most relaxed you've felt in days, weeks maybe even. She has this effect on you._

_She has done since the very first day in her lab._

_When you hear Holly yawn from above you, you finally shift and sit back up. "You're tired," you tell her, as if she might not be aware of that fact. "And we both have to get up in the morning, as much as I'd love to sleep all day."_

_Holly laughs but it turns into another yawn. "Bed?"_

"_Bed," you agree and stand up. You watch her as she switches off the TV and turns off the lights. She turns back to you in the darkness, the street lights from outside lighting up one side of her face. Everything's silent. You're both watching each other, daring the other to be the first to speak. You're not used to this._

_There's a soft clearing of the throat before she speaks, "the guest room is all set up."_

_That's not want you want to hear, and she knows that. You don't doubt it. In what little light there is, you can still make out the conflict on her face. It's why you like those eyes so much, the way they give everything she's feeling away. You know her. She's smart. She doesn't want to push. And it's partly your fault; you are the one who told her you just wanted to be. _

_You take a step toward her, "Hol?"_

"_Uh huh?"_

"_I don't want to sleep in the guest room." You say it clearly and as boldly as you can. Inside you're terrified. You know you're not ready for everything. But you don't want to go to bed alone. Not tonight. "Please, take me to bed."_

* * *

"Holly, I really have to get up now."

You try to pull away again. It's not that you want to. You definitely don't want to go anywhere. Who would ever want to be anywhere else when they could be here? Her hand has snuck under the back of your tshirt and it's warm against your skin. Really warm.

"What time is it?" She asks, still face down in the pillow. "Please don't tell me it's still dark outside."

"It's just after six, and…" You take the opportunity to release yourself from her vice-like grip whilst she's distracted and peer out under the curtains. "It's like, half way between dark and light."

She giggles lightly and reaches up to kiss you at the base of your neck. It makes you want to crawl back under the sheets with her again. Last night, after you'd practically demanded to be taken to bed, Holly had taken your hand and led you back through the flat to her room. You didn't say anything else, just watched as she lifted up the sheets and climbed in, then followed. She was laid on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching you. It had made you feel nervous all of sudden, but then she'd kissed you and that all went away.

You'd done nothing more than a little high school style making out. All above the clothes. But that didn't matter to you. It had felt amazing. This girl was amazing.

"That's too early."

She makes you smile then as she rolls over and pulls the covers up over herself. You pull yourself into a sitting position but press your lips against the small sliver of her forehead you can see between the pillow and the sheets. "You go back to sleep. Mind if I jump in the shower?"

There's a noise which you hope is a yes and you slowly ease out of the bed, careful not to disturb her. Your hand is on the doorknob ready to head to the bathroom when you hear her voice more clearly and louder.

"Don't go disappearing without a goodbye this time Peck."

You can tell that she's trying to be light and jovial, but you also know that there's another level to those words. Another meaning. One you haven't talked about yet. One you're scared to talk about, because then you'll have to face up to the fact that you hurt her. And the idea of hurting Holly is one you really, really dislike.

You glance back at where her shape is hidden under the bundle of covers, and your heart lurches in your chest in a way you're not used to. Seriously, this girl is inspiring all sorts of new behaviours already this morning. "I won't," you tell her.

It's not until you've locked the bathroom door, waited for the water to heat up, gotten undressed and stood under it that you release the breath you've been holding.

You did that to her, you berate yourself. You made her feel that way, like you'd leave without a goodbye. The pre-Holly, Gail would have taken it as an attack against her personality, but that's not what this was. You deserved it. You were selfish and cruel and you bailed on her after everything she'd done for you.

The realisation hits you waves. You'd hurt Holly. You'd hurt her enough for her to hide under the covers and try make a joke about the other morning. Holly doesn't do things like that, you think, letting the hot water rain down on you and numb your shoulders. Holly laughs and calls you out on your shit. Holly throws banter back at you quicker than anyone else you've ever met.

But you hurt that Holly, and now she thinks you're the type of person who might leave without saying goodbye.

The sobs come without any prior warning.

You're in Holly's shower, sobbing uncontrollably and you don't quite know why. It's all too much. The last twenty four hours have been too much. Gun shots and hospital beds and kissing in darkened rooms. And now this. You hurt the one person who you really don't want to hurt. It feels like shit.

She was there for you last night, she came to check up on you yesterday after the way you'd treated her. She'd done nothing but care for you; taking you to the batting cages when you needed cheering up, picking you up from the hospital, giving you some place to go and nursing your wounds. She'd been nothing short of brilliant towards you and you ran away. You acted like a spoilt brat and took off without as much as a word of thanks.

You'd pretty much ignored her for nearly a week. You'd drunkenly text her and teased her whilst she was on a date. She deserved better than this.

You decide then, in the steam filled shower, as you pop the cap on Holly's coconut shampoo, you're going to be better than this. From this second onwards, you're going to do everything you can to be the best you can for this girl.

* * *

Its silent back in Holly's room and you can't tell whether she's fallen back asleep or not. You managed to pull yourself together and pull yesterday's uniform back on. It's not ideal; Holly had offered to throw it in the laundry last night but after everything else she'd done for you, you hadn't let her. So you were wearing yesterday's clothes and trying to ignore all the memories it stirred.

You step into the room and tentatively to the bed, "Holly?"

The bundle of covers shifts and makes a sound that brings a slight smile to your face. You edge closer slowly and sit on the edge of the mattress with your back to her. She obviously senses the bed move beneath her and a hand sneaks out and reaches for yours. The gesture makes your heart swell.

Giving her hand a squeeze, gives you the courage, "Hol, I'm not sure what this is, between us."

She's moves again, this time more alertly and her head appears from under the sheets. Her hair is a right mess and her eyes are still tired, but you couldn't care less. You'd happily jump into bed and start making out with her again if you could. But you have to do this before anything else can even be thought about. You continue, "but I know it's something. And something I want more of. I know that at least."

Her eyes are on you attentively. You shrug. You don't like being under pressure; you know you suck at conversations like this. Words are definitely not something you excel at. Then again, you have to be better, for Holly. Because she deserves better.

"Gail, its okay."

"It's not though, is it? You thought I was going to leave without saying goodbye."

She flinches, "I didn't mean it like that."

"You did," you squeeze her hand again gently as you speak, hopefully letting her know that you don't mind. That you know you deserved it. "And that's okay, because I've been shit. God, you've been nothing but great recently and I've been shit."

You can tell she wants to protest again, but you cut her off with your eyes. "Don't pretend you haven't spent the last week cursing me Hol?"

She smiles that understanding smile and speaks lightly, "only at night time."

"I'm not gunna let that happen again," you tell determinedly. You take a peek at the cheap Casio watch on your wrist. "I have to go now, I'm sorry. But know this, I'm not gunna run away again. This…" You gesture around the room with your free hand. "Whatever this is, I do want it. And I'm going to be better at it."

You lean down and kiss her chastely, but just as you go to pull back, her hand finds cups you cheek and she deepens the kiss. It fills your head with a fluffier feeling than that Oxy-crap they gave you at the hospital last week. When she pulls away, you watch her lick her lips quickly. "You're already much better than okay."

You laugh and stand up. "Told you, didn't I?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much for all the love and reviews so far - they are the reason I stay motivated to write.**

**This is more filler than anything else. **

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its characters. If I did Holly would always be wearing that white coat and looking over the top of her glasses.**

* * *

Parade is half empty. Or at least that's what it feels like; there's definitely a lot less familiar faces. Frank looks like he hasn't had a minutes sleep. Everyone else is not much better. There's the overwhelming smell of strong coffee in the room and no one can ignore the guys from above who are there to investigate last night's shooting.

Frank is filling everyone in on the conditions of those not here, including Nick, who's out until cleared for duty, and Dov and Andy who will both be back in later today. His voice wavers slightly when he mentions Chloe. You clench your fists.

You'd much rather be off today. You'd much rather be taking the day to catch up with everything in your head. You'd much rather be able to sit and go over all those feelings you've spent weeks ignoring. You want to get it all in order, and then you can be better, for Holly's sake.

The way she'd looked at you this morning is all you can think of. If you'd rather be doing anything right now; it'd be curled up in bed with her again.

You're so caught up in those thoughts that you almost miss the assignments being dealt out. "Nash. Peck. Diaz. Follow me please, you're with Callaghan."

Frank's looking at you expectantly. You all stand. He doesn't say anything more and heads out the room. There's nothing else to do but follow. You look at Traci first then Chris; there's shrugs all around. No-one knows what's happening. The tension in the air has doubled. It's Chris that has the balls to speak up first. "With Callaghan on what, sir?"

Frank doesn't answer us at first, but gestures for us to enter one of the incident rooms. You immediately recognise all the notes and photos on the wall. They've been moved between yesterday and now; probably out of the way of the investigators. "The Ford case," he answers solemnly.

"Sir?" This comes from you.

"Collins killed him." This from Chris.

"What's the case?" Traci.

Frank's shoulders slump. You're not sure where Luke is but you think you're about to find out. You brace yourself. There's a bad feeling inside of you being drummed up already. "The other Ford case," he explains. "With the other Ford. Luke is currently interviewing Kevin Ford's brother, Abe, in relation to a missing child case from three years ago."

You steal a look at Chris, it was the two of you who brought Abe Ford in yesterday. The guy had creeped you out then. Chris catches your eye back; you can tell he's thinking the same thing. You can also tell that your day is going to be hell.

Just what you need.

* * *

It's just you and Traci in the incident room when you take lunch. Chris and Luke are with Ford, again, but the two of you had stayed behind to grab ten minutes for the first time all day.

You'd got it spot on so far; today had been hell.

You hop up on one of the desks when Traci hands you a pre-packed sandwich, just managing to get out a quick thanks before tearing into it. You hadn't had a minute to eat all day and you were ravenous. Hunger and you don't mix, and you know you were starting to get tetchy and wound up. Traci just snorted with laughter before ripping into her own lunch.

She hadn't said anything about Holly yet, and you hadn't asked about Steve. You weren't going to give first either. You can wait, you're sure the questions will come soon enough.

But for now, you just enjoy the quiet and calm, and the food. Definitely the food. It had been an exhausting day so far. One of those cases that makes you sick to your stomach and your head hurt. Some people on this planet were sick, and it would appear that Abe Ford was one of these sickos.

In fact, you'd almost be willing to bet that he was the most screwed up out of him and his brother.

Your morning so far had revolved around reading over and over the old case files from when Marcus Hartley went missing, and then when you'd read those, there were piles of notes Marlo had written. The more you read, the sicker you felt.

But it kept you occupied, and thanks to the atmosphere in the station, that was a plus. Everyone was avoiding talking about the obvious. The absent officers, the missing pane of glass in the corridor wall where Ford had fallen through after taking Nick's bullet, the anxious waiting for news from the hospital.

Andy and Dov had both arrived for work little over an hour ago and assigned to desk duty. You could tell that Frank was trying to keep them as far away as possible from the Ford stuff.

Everything was just a little heavy today.

Your phone rings next to you on the table, the name on the screen causing an involuntary smile. You ignore the fact that she's already making you smile on heavy days. You answer with half a mouthful of sandwich. "Hey, what's up?"

"I have to do the autopsy." Holly's voice is flat but you take it as fatigue. It had been late when you'd gone to bed, and the image of her tired eyes this morning was so stuck in your mind that guess that's what's up.

"Well, that is kinda your job Hol," you tease and take another bite. Traci's ears practically prick when she hears you say the name and you have to roll your eyes when she waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, I mean," she goes quiet and you immediately stiffen. Another mistake. Way to go Peck. "I mean I have the autopsy for the guy from yesterday. Kevin Ford."

You're up off the table in a shot. "What?"

"It is kinda my job," she replies sadly and you immediately regret your choice of words. You kick yourself harder. It had only been seven hours since you'd stood in her shower making promises with yourself to stop making silly mistakes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She doesn't sound very fine. She sounds the opposite of fine. You hear her clear her throat through the line and then the clattering of something. Probably those disturbing medical instruments that litter the morgue. "I guess, I guess I just had to hear your voice. I'll be okay. How is it over there?"

You pause, you don't want to tell her how crap your morning had been, not about all the horrible stories that had been dredged up this when you'd started to dig into the other Ford brothers history. You don't want to bring her mood down anymore, quite the opposite in fact. You want her happy, she deserves to be happy.

Traci is still watching you intently, a sly smile on her face. You ignore her and pick at the now empty wrapping from your sandwich. An idea pops into your head. "I'll tell you what, how about I tell you all about it over dinner tonight? My treat?"

"That would be nice." You can almost hear the smile in her voice over the phone. It makes you feel like less of an idiot. In fact you almost feel proud of yourself. You let yourself smile too. Peck's back in the game. "Phone me when you're done?"

"Yeah of course. I'll see you later," you tell her happily, and you are happy. You have plans with interesting, smart, funny girl tonight. The idea of seeing her after this nightmare of a day is like a dream or something. You glance up at the photos stuck to the bulletin board. "And Hol, stab the bastard in the eye or something yeah?"

She laughs, "I'll stab him in both."

You're laughing too as you hang up and drop your phone on the table beside you. Traci's eyes are still on you, her head tilted to one side with a silent accusation. "What?"

She shakes her head gently, not hiding her smile at all, "nothing."

Don't rise, you warn yourself, just ignore her. Instead you reach forward and grab the bag of chips from the desk next to your friend and pop it open. You grin at her as you grab a handful from the packet and start munching.

"Be careful," she teases then drops her attention to a file. "You wouldn't want to ruin your dinner, I hear you have plans."

* * *

The metal of the locker is cold against your forehead.

It soothes the dull ache you've been suffering from for the past hour. You let your eyes fall shut and just take a moment.

There'd been five arrests. Three bodies excavated. And that wasn't the end. The guys that had come in to take over your shift had more interviews to conduct, more computers to trawl through for explicit files, more old files to read, more evidence to process. You'd been on for 11 hours. You are, for all intents and purposes, destroyed.

You were supposed to be off tomorrow, but because of the absences, you were drafted in for cover. You'd almost argued, until you remembered Chloe and Sam were currently in hospital beds. Taking on extra shifts was the least you could do.

You felt a small hand on your shoulder and then Traci's voice broke through the silence. "Go home Gail, get out of here. Take Holly for dinner. Share a bottle of wine. Sleep. It'll all be here in the morning."

Sighing, you open your eyes and turn around, leaning back against the locker instead. She sits down on the bench opposite you and regards you carefully.

"You like her huh?"

You look up at the ceiling, "we're really going to do this?"

Traci kicks your shin with the toe of her shoe gently. "Well, we could make it a double date tonight instead, and Steve and I could come along. We could discuss it all over a bottle of red?"

It's a joke, you know that. She's only trying to make you feel more comfortable and trying to be a good friend. You wish you were the kind of person who could just open up, but you don't have that instinct built in. Years of avoiding that very behaviour because your mother sees it as a sign of weakness have had their effect on you.

"That's not necessary," you roll your eyes. "And that's also really creepy."

Your friend laughs but when the noise dies down she's looking at you in that all knowing, motherly way again, and it freaks you out. But then you remember your promises to yourself. About being better. Screw your mom's stupid expectations.

"Yes, I like her," you admit, albeit in a reluctant tone that would make your sixteen year old self proud. "Yes, I like her. And yes, I stayed at her place last night. Yes, we have a dinner date tonight. Yes, I really like her and yes, I have absolutely no idea what that means."

You avoid eye contact. You're embarrassed. Outbursts like that aren't normally on your agenda.

"Why does it have to mean anything?" Traci's voice is quiet and calm, like you'd expect from someone with a child. She's probably used to sudden outbursts from Leo, you tell yourself. "If you like her, and she makes you happy, which she obviously does by the way, why does it have to mean anything?"

"She's a girl," you try to protest. It makes you feel weak. Mother Peck would be so proud right about now.

"I can see your detective skills are improving."

"Trace." You're not in the mood.

"Sorry," Traci concedes and tries another tactic instead. "I've seen you today. It's been a horrible case to come in to after last night. It's been hard and sickening…" She says that last word with the contempt you know comes from having children of your own. "But every time your phone's gone off, it hasn't been worry written all over your face. You like to think you're tough Gail, and I know you well enough to understand why. But you've been smiling like a lovesick puppy."

"I am _not_ a lovesick puppy," you try to argue but you can't help smile a little at Traci's lecture, despite the fact you like to think you're tough.

"Tell your face that."

You share a laugh, and the two of you both stand up grabbing your coats as you do. You notice then that Traci has changed into something a lot smarter than what she'd been wearing all day. You tell her as much.

"Let's just say," she tells you as you exit the locker room and bumps her hip against yours. "That Holly isn't the only one with a hot Peck date tonight."

"You're sick."


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go again. Thanks so much for all the reviews and follows so far. They mean the world.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its characters. If I did I have these two live in my basement. **

* * *

You're half way to Holly's apartment when you realise you've not actually got much of a plan for dinner.

You've decided to walk back to hers. The evening is pretty mild, and you think, as you walk, it'll give you enough time to come up with some sort of plan. You want it to be special. She deserves something like that. But you can't cook. At all. Even the simplest of pasta dishes are a bit of an ask for you. And, you think, stuffing your hands in your pockets, you're not sure you're ready for fancy meals out. Like real romantic dinners for two in romantic restaurants where everyone will be watching.

You might have accepted you like her, lots, but you're not there yet.

Realising that makes you feel guilty again. You'd promised Holly dinner, and you know that after the day she's had, she's going to be looking forward to it. There's a foreboding sense of disappointment you can't ignore.

It's been less than 48 hours since your first proper kiss and it strikes you that you're already about to disappoint her.

You can't escape or ignore the feeling that Holly deserves better than you.

You'd grown up in a shadow of failed expectations and under the burden of other people's dreams for you. You were used to feeling like no matter what you did, there would always been an element of disappointment when your name was mentioned in relation to the rest of the impressive Peck clan. But this was a new feeling. You weren't bothered about your mothers lofty expectations anymore, you just wanted to be the best you could be to make Holly proud, to make her happy.

She has an incredibly infectious smile and you're determined to be the cause of it as much as possible.

It's then that you spot a red shop front boasting a Spanish deli down the road to your left. You stop. There's a niggling feeling in the back of your mind, something about Holly saying she liked tapas. One if those nights you'd just sat and chatted over a beer. You spin on your heel and head towards it. You still don't have a plan but it's a start.

A bell tinkles above your head as you enter the deli. There's no one in there but an old guy behind the counter which doesn't fill you with hope. He looks at you expectantly. You're not sure what you're doing. "I need food," you tell him and he just chuckles. "For my... For a date."

He's still looking at you and it makes you fidget nervously. Your eyes fall on the food in the cabinets he's learning against. It does look really good though. It makes your stomach growl. You decide that's enough to try again. "I have a date tonight. With someone really special. Someone who's had a bad day and who deserves a good meal. With me. I need something good."

He smiles then, "you came to the right place then."

The guy speaks in a Spanish accent which you take as a good sign. At least you can tell Holly it's authentic. You gesture towards the food on display. "I need something that'll impress her. Something to make her smile."

You realise too late that you've just told this complete stranger that you're preparing for a date with another woman. It just slipped out. As if it's perfectly normal. And he's not recoiling or throwing you out or laughing or anything. He's not even batted an eyelid. It's a big step, and it spurs you on. You can do this.

"Aha, of course," the guy rocks on his heels and picks up a brown paper bag ready to start filling. "You know what she likes?"

You pause and rack your brain for the rest of that conversation where she said she liked tapas. There's nothing stored in there about what her favourites were. The deli guy is watching you intently and all you can think of is how little you actually really know about this girl. But that's what tonight is about, right? You're going to spend as much time as possible learning about this girl, and all the ways to make her smile.

"How about a surprise?" He smiles. "A romantic banquet for two. Here, grab one of those bottles behind you too."

* * *

Holly eyes you suspiciously as she lets you in to the flat. You're weighted down with food and wine, so much so that you're a little flustered from carrying it back and up the stairs. The guy at the deli had got a little carried away you suspect, there was definitely more food here than two people could put away.

"What's all this?" She asks with a smile starting to form.

"Dinner," you huff, walking straight past her and dropping the food bags onto the kitchen island. She follows you and leans against one of the kitchen cabinets, watching you. "I told you I was going to treat you to dinner."

You don't mean it to come out so aggressively, but it does. That happens a lot to you. Most of the time you actually don't mean to be so cruel. It's just the natural infliction to your voice. For Holly's credit, if she minds she doesn't show it. She's good at that, you think. Instead she pushes herself up and steps towards you, her arms circling your waist. You lean into her a little.

You sigh happily and try again. "I thought, after our shit days, that maybe we could stay in and eat. Just us. I bought tapas. And wine."

"I like tapas," she hums softly into your ear.

"I know."

You feel proud then. Holly is smiling and you know you've done that. Her hands are resting at the top of your jeans and you're in her arms and you've made her happy. The horrible taste that your day has left in your mouth starts to ebb away. She closes the gap then and brushes her lips softly over yours.

"Hi."

You grin back, "hi."

This time you close the gap and kiss her. Deeper. A little less controlled. Your hand is on her cheek. She's good at this. Really good. You're forgetting everything that had happened today, and when she lets out a soft moan into your mouth it actually feels like you might forget everything bad that's ever happened to you.

* * *

Dinner is a success.

You don't know why you worried about there being too much when Holly starts digging in. You both eat loads more than is probably healthy, but the food is good. Really good. You remind yourself, as Holly clears away the dishes and goes to bring the wine back into the living room that you'll have to go back to that deli. The smile on Holly's face when all the dishes you'd bought were laid out was well worth it.

Holly returns whilst you're lost in thought and tops up your glass. You don't normally drink wine, and can already feel it going to your head. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Doctor Stewart?"

She slaps at your legs, which you've lifted up onto the sofa and you lift them so she can sit back down, and then stretch them out over her lap. "I've already had you in my bed, Peck. I don't need to get you drunk."

"Sure of yourself ain't you?"

She doesn't say anything back straight away and you momentarily consider you might have won that point. Until you feel her hand on your lower leg, slowly moving up over your jeans. It's a simple gesture. Nothing overly sexual about it. But fuck does it do things to you. Your throat goes dry and you have to take a large mouthful of wine to calm it. Which you almost spill when her fingers trace up over your knee. "I'm sure of very few things around you Gail," she speaks slowly, looking right at you. "Which isn't like me."

You have to swallow and remind yourself to breathe.

"But what I am sure of," she continues. Her hand has stopped sliding upwards but just rests on your thigh. You're fairly sure you can feel the heat through the denim. "Is that you are definitely not here tonight for the wine."

She's dumbfounded you again, much like she did in the coat closet at the wedding. You can't explain it, but she has this special ability to get right through all the defences you've built up over years, and under your skin. You've known her a few weeks and she's pulling more of your walls down that people who you've known for ten times as long. It's frightening.

You take another moment to gather yourself, try to smirk and then speak: "No, I came for the food."

Holly doesn't accept defeat though and instead changes her position on the sofa so that she's practically leaning over you. She takes the wine glass from your hand and places it beside hers on the coffee table. She's all you can see. Somehow suddenly, she's straddling you and her hands are either side of your head and all you can see is her wicked grin and dark eyes. Eyes several shades darker than before.

You have to swallow and remind yourself to breathe again.

"Just the food?"

You try, you really try to calm your heart rate enough to get another snarky comment out. Instead your voice comes out not much more than a croaky whisper. "Maybe the company ain't that bad."

Holly smiles, "coming from you, I'm going to take that as a compliment."

You lean up then, to try kiss get but she pulls back so she's just out of reach. You can't remember the last time you felt so out of control. Normally you hate those kind feelings, you like to be in charge, you like situations where you can take one up; but you can't even begin to complain about being underneath Holly like this, being teased like this.

"Don't get too used to being complimented if you're not going to let me kiss you," you all but whisper. "I don't dish them all freely."

Holly's lips find your throat and you can't help the guttural sound that slips out as they do. It's like you're on fire. "I know," she says, her voice low and husky and all kinds of sexy. "You don't like people."

Half of you wants to let your eyes drift shut and just let Holly kiss you this way as if it was all part of a dream. The other half can't tear your eyes from hers, no matter how hard you try. It's impossible. She's addictive, in ways you didn't know were possible. The way she's looking at you, the position she's in, it's stopping the synapses in your brain from firing. You're incapable of anything but giving in to her.

"You're not people," you tell her, and try to reach for her lips again.

She pulls back again and regards you with something you can't place. You're not quite sure where that had come from or why you said it, it had just fallen from your lips as you were desperately searching for Holly's again. In fact you have to think over what you'd said a few times to try work out why she's staring at you like that. This is why you don't talk about your feelings, you remind yourself as you frown. You're not very good at it, and when you do try you always just say things without thinking properly about them. And then all you can do is berate yourself for being so stupid or weak or whatever and it renders you incapable of saying anything more.

It shocks you therefore, that despite your frown, Holly starts to laugh at you. You're laid back, practically pinned underneath her, having said something reasonably revealing and she's actually laughing at you. You're incredulous and you'll be damned if you don't let her know so. "Are you laughing at me?"

With some kind of expert upper body strength, Holly removes one of her hands which had been holding her up, leaning all of her weight on the other, and runs a thumb slowly over the creases in your forehead. "Stop frowning," she tells you, the laughter still evident in her voice. "It'll give you wrinkles. And I quite like that pretty face of yours."

If anything you frown harder as Holly compliments you. You're only reminded that this girl likes you. As in like, likes you. Not only that but she cares enough about you to come check on your at work when she knows that there's been trouble and to take you back to hers to look after you when you're not in a good way. And she's a girl. A girl who made it very obvious from the start that she was gay. A girl who kissed you and teased you about your lack of knowledge on the workings of a lesbian relationship after only a week of knowing you. A girl, whom it would appear, likes that pretty face of yours.

Her comment gives you both a boost of confidence and a sense of calm at the same time. "Are you saying you won't like my pretty face if I get wrinkles?"

"When you get wrinkles," she corrects without a moment's hesitation.

She's using both hands to hold herself up again so you take the opportunity, seeing as she won't let you kiss her, to kiss her hands. You turn your head towards the left one first, and then the right. When you look straight back up at Holly's face hanging over you, she's smiling in the darn cute affectionate way again. The resulting stomach flips are getting too big to ignore, you consider momentarily. "I, my dear," you tell her in the most confident voice you've managed in at least ten minutes. "Am ageless. I will never get wrinkles. It's in the Peck genes."

Holly leans down slightly, and places a kiss where seconds earlier your brow had been furrowed. "Wrinkles are inevitable my dear. Especially when someone spends as much time as you do frowning."

As if on cue, you frown again, although this time you're not entirely sure you mean it, or whether you just want Holly to tell you you're cute or adorable or even that you have a pretty face again. You're literally a split second from throwing a pout out there too when Holly leans down properly and kisses you.

There's practically no space between the top halves of your bodies then and one of her hands has relocated to the back of your head, tangled in your hair as she holds you in place. As if you'd go anywhere. You push your tongue past her lips and the groan of appreciation that reverberates in your mouth spurs your hands into action. They're on her hips, then her back, then her hips again. You want them to be everywhere at once. It suddenly occurs to you that you want all of this girl. Badly.

Thirty seconds later and she's sitting up, pulling you up too so she's sitting in your lap, without the kiss being broken or even at all disturbed. It's easily the most turned on you've been in weeks and when Holly's other hand runs down your side, briefly skimming the underside of your breast, you genuinely feel like you're on the edge of exploding.

It's that sensation that causes you to realise there's a need to breathe and you have to reluctantly pull back from one another. She doesn't move position at all, for which you're externally grateful, and so to replace the kissing, you take the opportunity to sneak both your hands slightly under the hem of her top. Her skin is warm and smooth, and you're sure if you concentrated hard enough you'd be able to feel the blood surging so fast around her body as a result of her racing heartbeat.

Her head is half buried in your neck as she struggles to regain composure so you nearly miss it when she talks, "trust me, Officer Peck, I'm a doctor."

You laugh, then, properly and heartily laugh out loud. "All of the patients you work on are already dead."

She laughs then too, lifting her head to throw it back in mirth, and the sound of the two of you enjoying a moment of pure joy fills the apartment. You can't remember the last time you felt this happy. In fact, all of the occasions in the past few weeks where you have felt happy, have all been down to this girl. Realising this makes you tighten your hold on her.

"Stay with me again tonight," she asks as your eyes meet again in a voice so shy it stirs something in you. She really is adorable. "We don't have to do anything. I mean, you know, that kind of thing. Well, unless... But. Just, will you stay here…"

You cut her off in your new favourite way and feel her smile into the kiss.

"I thought you'd never ask."


	9. Chapter 9

**The views on the last piece were awesome - thank you so much - thought you guys might be getting a little bored back there.**

**And so another piece for you all, remember things sometimes have to get worse before they get better.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or the beautiful characters. If I did then there would be a skimpier version of Gail's uniform.**

* * *

You can't sleep.

There's far too much on your mind for you to even consider sleeping; and that's with you trying to ignore the happily asleep Holly laid half across you. She's been soundly in the land of nod for at least two hours and all you've done is lay there and replay the evening countlessly in your head. The memory of that kiss on the sofa gets more and more vivid the more you think about it.

She'd kissed you like you'd never been kissed by anyone. It was everything passionate kisses are supposed to be, and so different from anything you'd ever experienced before. Having Holly straddling your lap like that, teasing you like that, touching you like that, it was the most intense feeling you've ever been privy to. It had caused your brain to short circuit and your heart to jump, and if truth be told, your libido go into some kind of hyper drive.

Which is why you can't sleep.

After climbing off you, Holly had put a movie on, something about a girl who meets a boy or something or other. You hadn't been able to concentrate. Your lips had been humming and your hands could still feel the heat of Holly's skin even though they'd long since been removed. It was like your entire body was holding on to the way it had been set on fire by the kiss. That, combined with the way your head was still reeling over the way she'd asked you to stay had made it impossible to think about anything but Holly. When you'd yawned, only half way through, she'd reached for your hand and asked if you wanted to go to bed. You hadn't the brain power for speech, so could only nod. And for the second night in a row you'd let her lead you to her bedroom.

It had been different than the night previous; that was the first thing that hit you. Holly had asked you to stay, not the other way around. She'd expressed her want for you to come to bed with you, and it scared you hugely.

Once you both had washed up and climbed into bed, you'd kind of expected to pick up the whole making out thread again. You wanted that. Instead Holly had started talking. She asked you about work, about your friends. She told you about hers. She was rambling again and you were too confused to shut up by pressing your lips against hers. So you just lay there, listening, offering up the occasional remark, until Holly drifted off, her arm draped over your waist.

It was still in the same position now; her hand resting softly against your hip, her fingers grazing the bare skin there. You can feel the heat radiating through her to you more than anything. It was doing so many things to you that trying to shut off and sleep was impossible. Beyond impossible in fact, it was laughable that it could even be considered as a realistic idea.

This wasn't what you'd expected when she'd asked you to stay.

Holly emits a soft snoring sound beside you and you turn your head impulsively to get a better look at her sleeping face. She's beautiful. You know that. And not in the way you've looked at girls like Andy or Traci in the past and noticed their good looks. This is different. You feel different about it. Very different. This is the kind of beauty that makes you want to reach up and touch. This is the kind of beauty that runs deeper than the colour of her eyes or the curve of her cheeks. This is the kind of beauty that has knocked you for six and sent you spinning off in a completely different direction.

You like her. You can't deny or ignore that anymore. Not after admitting it to Traci earlier. Not after wanting to surprise her with tapas or kissing her like you had on her sofa. You like a girl. Probably more than you've ever liked any guy before too, that's for sure. You definitely can't remember lying awake besides Chris or Nick unable to stop thinking about them for long enough to drift off to sleep.

But then that was easy. They were guys. Guys are easy. You realise, you realised whilst you were still a teenager, that guys can be simple. There's no need to overcomplicate feelings, and that's the way you like it. You're good at stuff where feelings don't get in the way and where you don't have to over think them. Feelings make stuff hard; they make people crazy and cause pain. Gail Peck is not a girl who does well with feelings, you know this, and you have known for years. You're not cut from that cloth, not like someone like Chloe. It's a fact you've accepted. A long time ago. You're used to being called cold or distant. You're used to being looked at funny when you make a remark that gives indication towards your attitude to feelings. It's part of who you are, and you like who you are.

Which is the real reason you can't sleep.

This kind of behaviour you're showing with Holly. This inability to ignore the fact you're developing feelings for her; and not just small, unimportant feelings either, is not like you. The fact that she's a girl isn't what's driving you crazy the most, but it's the fact that's she gotten under your skin. She's making you want to stay over with her, she's turning you on more than anyone you've ever met and she's keeping you up at night. She is well and truly under your skin, and as you lay there dwelling on this, you realise the version of you, you thought you knew is well and truly fucked.

Ever since Holly came trampling through those woods and into your life, you've lost full control on anything resembling feelings. From day one, in her lab, on her home turf, she was already inspiring a difference in Gail Peck. You didn't ignore the urge, back then, to spill home truths about emergency situations and cheating and whatever else it was you said about hating people and being a cat. You don't know even now where that came from; you hate cats. But that was the most you'd admitted to anyone about why you cheated on Nick, to a complete stranger. A mysterious, brunette stranger with a tongue so sharp as to rival yours. You don't fully understand why, but you wanted to tell this stranger that there was a reason behind your bluntness and insults. It wasn't an apology, just an explanation. And a bad one at that.

She'd gotten under your skin weeks ago, and now it was only really beginning to settle in with you as to why. All those stomach flips and coy smiles and hairs standing on edge which you'd spent the weeks since that fateful meeting in the woods ignoring; they were all starting to make sense. You've spent years dating guys. You've slept with more guys than you've actually dated, more down to your attitude on relationships themselves than anything else; but you've never felt these feelings before. You're watching her sleep for Christ's sake; you practically scream at yourself internally, there are proper feelings floating about here.

You have feelings for her. Real feelings. Stuff from fairy tales and smushy love songs. Feelings you've laughed at other people for having. They've crept up on you. You've ignored them and pretended there were something attributed to friendship. You've run away from them and denied them. It took people getting shot at; all the fear you felt and all the concern she expressed for you to just stop ignoring them. It had been you who made the first move. It had been you who clung to her in the hospital. It had been you who asked to go to bed with her. It had been you that proposed a dinner date. It was all you.

How had you not seen any of this?

Her feelings were all laid out, clear and there to see. She'd told you straight away that she was gay. She snuck a cheeky kiss in at the wedding after spending most of the night flirting with you and eyeing up your legs. She took you to the batting cages the day Christian went missing because she knew you needed a laugh. She looked after you with concern and took you home after the accident with the drain cleaner stuff. She came to check you were alive. She worried about you. She kissed you in the darkness of her bedroom when you both needed the comfort and the reassurance. She'd waited for you to stop ignoring and denying and hiding and pretending.

And she'd asked you to stay again tonight but then got into bed and rambled away.

She was scared too; it didn't take one of those police shrinks to work that one out. You scared her too. You made her ramble. It occurs to you then, for the first time that Holly is probably more in tune with your own feelings than you are. As you look over at her sleeping face, tucked beside yours on the pillow so close you can feel her breath on your neck, you realise she's scared for you, anxious for you.

You're not too inept to understand your role in this as the straight girl. It's not passed you by that you've asked a lot of questions over the past few weeks; probably stupid ones and they've more than likely been the cause of some of Holly's reservations. It causes a cloud of guilt to fill you up, laid there in bed with this girl. You're not used to feeling bad about how your constant ignorance and messed up emotions affect other people, but right now, you've never felt worse about ignoring them.

It's that feeling you can't ignore, and so as carefully as possible so as not to disturb Holly, you get out of bed and leave her fast asleep alone.

* * *

It's the sound of soft footsteps on hardwood floors that pulls you finally from a fitful sleep. You listen to them pad towards you, then stop, obviously as their owner pauses to regard the sight of you curled up in ball under a blanket on the sofa. You keep your eyes closed and lay as still as humanely possible. The little voice in the back of your mind is screaming out at how pathetic you are. It's easier to ignore if you're still pretending to be asleep.

When you hear Holly start to move again it's not towards the sofa you'd escaped her bed for, but towards the kitchen. There's the clattering of cupboards being opened and closed, crockery being moved. Then running water and the hiss of a coffee percolator starting.

You screw your eyes shut. Feelings of guilt and shame flood through you; you hate yourself for this. For being so weak and ridiculous. For leaving the comfort of a bed beside a woman you found all kinds of beautiful. For hiding under a scratchy tartan blanket when you could be curled up with her.

The smell of fresh coffee wafts into the room. It's exactly what you need after a night of so little sleep, but you don't know how you're going to get up and ask for a cup. You don't have a clue what you're going to do next. It's that which you're pondering silently when Holly's voice floats towards you. It's quiet but filled with a type of cold confidence that only causes more guilt.

"I'm getting in the shower, and then I have to get dressed for work. There's fresh coffee on the side. Feel free to help yourself, but," she pauses and you wait for the blow you're already anticipating based on her tone. "Maybe, you should be gone when I come back through."

You hear her retreating footsteps, the bathroom door closing and then the shower starting up, but you can't move. It's like you're glued to the sofa. For a moment you think Holly might come back and sit beside you and then you'd have your chance to apologise and talk. She doesn't though. Why would she? She's mad at you. That much was pretty darn obvious. You've experienced Holly in her workplace, when she's demanded faster results from her interns or refused to leave until she has got her conclusions even if someone's advising her to leave. She can be fiery and determined. You like that about her.

But now it frightens you.

Last night Holly was yours, or at least that's what it had felt like. She was asking you to stay. She was making out with you and flirting and looking at you in that way you love. The two of you had something; you truly thought that, you still think that. And yet here you are, waking up on the sofa after running away from her. Again.

Slowly, you pull yourself up off the sofa. You have to crick your back thanks to your night on the sofa, and then head in the direction of coffee. Holly had left you a mug on the side next to the coffee pot. Despite being mad at you, despite being upset with you, she was still looking out for you. You pour a mugful and lean against the kitchen work surface, listening out for the sound of the water running in the other room.

She said she wanted you gone, maybe in not quite so many words, but that was at least the impression you'd got. You screwed up by not talking to her last night and now she wants you to leave. After everything that had happened last night.

The water's stopped.

The coffee's burning hot still, but rich and strong, the way you like. It starts to wake up your senses, and you feel a little bit more like Gail Peck with each sip. You could just leave, like she asked. You could go back to the apartment and use your own shower before heading into the station. You could do as Holly asked.

But you won't.

Not after everything that happened last night.

This time the footsteps on the hardwood floors are harder, Holly's boots causing them to echo through the silent flat. They stop dead when she reaches the entrance to the kitchen and sees you sat at the kitchen island, hands wrapped around your second mug of coffee.

"Gail?"

You meet her square in the eyes, "hey."

"I thought, I said, what are you still doing here?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the slight delay - work has been a bitch, but I'm back now and here's that talk that been coming. Read, review, enjoy.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue, or its characters. If I did Gail Peck would be waiting in my bed when I get home.**

* * *

"I thought, I said, what are you still doing here?"

She's looking at you expectantly, with a stance that you're used to thanks to being a cop. One hand on her hip, one leg slightly in front of the other. It screams defiance. Strength. You're not going to let yourself be fooled though, not entirely. The way she fumbled over her words, the way her eyes softened ever so slightly when she saw you sat there; those you're taking as signs that staying wasn't a bad idea.

It's that notion that gives you courage to say what you do; "couldn't leave when your coffee is this good."

If your poor attempt at banter lightens her mood, her features don't show it. Instead she walks towards you and leans against the counter directly opposite you, her eyes flicking over you and taking in your huddled form. It's probably pretty evident you haven't slept well and you're still wearing the clothes she'd lent you two nights previous. You keep your eyes on hers however, and try not to show the disappointment you feel when she crosses her arms across her chest. "I have to leave in fifteen minutes at the latest Gail. You better talk."

You drop your eyes to your near empty mug for a split second before meeting hers again. They've softened ever so slightly more and it makes you braver; you like this girl, you remember, the insecurity is worth it. You try remembering the words you'd rehearsed whilst she was in the shower; you desperately don't want to mess up anymore. "I'm not very good with words, and I'm even worse with dealing with my feelings. Feelings and me, we're not exactly hand in hand you know? I don't really open up to anyone either."

There's a pause whilst you take a moment to collect yourself. You know what you want to get across, you just don't know how and you really don't want to get it wrong. Thankfully Holly stays quiet and lets you do what you need to do. It only makes you want her more.

"You can ask anyone, I don't talk about myself or my feelings or any of that. I never have. I'm not that emotionally stable really I guess," you try a weak smile and Holly smiles a small one back. It makes you heart skip and suddenly the weight of this conversation doesn't feel too much. "I guess the closest friend I've got is Traci, and even she would tell you we're not exactly swapping secrets all day. But yesterday... Yesterday I told her that I really like you."

Holly's arms drop from their crossed position and she pushes off the kitchen cupboards. "Is that true?"

"I wouldn't lie to you Holly," you tell her confidently; it's the most sure of yourself you've felt in hours. "I might be pretty rubbish when it comes to the whole being a girlfriend thing." Holly raises an eyebrow but you ignore it and continue. "And I might not know how to speak my feelings, hell I don't even know what I am feeling most of the time. But I wouldn't ever lie to you."

"You told me you wouldn't run away again." She doesn't say it harshly, but you flinch nonetheless.

"I only ran as far as the living room," you offer back in a low voice. The confidence has vanished so fast you've almost got whiplash. "And to be fair I didn't actually run, more like crept quietly."

She takes a step closer to you and swats at your shoulder as she chastises you, "Gail, that's not funny."

Before she can step back, you grab the offending hand that had slapped your shoulder and pull her closer instead. She lets you without resistance and stands at your knees. You look up at her with your best attempt at puppy dog eyes, "I mean it though, this isn't me running away."

Her free hand finds your shoulder and grabs at your tshirt. Her voice is softer but her words still cut through you. "What was last night about then?"

Holly has these eyes; deep and brown that express every emotion. Even after such a short time you're starting to recognise how the change with her moods. Right now they're displaying something you can't place though, and that makes you sad. It's not anger, you know that. Nor is it the affection she's shown towards you numerous times in the past forty eight hours. Whatever it is gives you the feeling that you won't get away with not talking right now.

"I couldn't sleep," you start even though you know it's a weak answer. Holly deserves better than this. Kicking yourself internally, you try again. "I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking. About you, and about us; and about what the hell it means that I can't stop thinking about you and us."

Her hand pulls at the fabric covering your shoulder, "it doesn't have to mean anything Gail."

"Why do people keep saying that?" You exclaim, exasperated. "You and Traci. Of course it means something. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you bloody kissed me at the wedding and then disappeared to go dancing," you look at her accusingly and she shrugs with a small smirk. "That's not like me Hol, I don't think about people."

"I thought you said I wasn't people?"

"I'm not gay."

You don't know where your complete change in direction comes from, but it does and it hangs in the air in the kitchen. Holly's eyes change and she steps forward, pushing your legs apart slightly as she does so she can stand between them. You recognise the emotion in her eyes now. You've seen it before. In the interrogation room right after you kissed her. When you introduced her to Steve and Chris after hugging her so desperately. When you asked to spend the night with her. There's a part of you that thinks, wants to believe it's a look and emotion reserved for you, but you're not sure. It's that vulnerability that makes you look down at your lap instead.

Upon noticing your dropped head, Holly squeezes your hand, "nobody is saying you are Gail. I certainly don't need you to say you are, or suddenly start waving the rainbow flags and wearing fleece and backpacks."

Your head jerks up at her words and you're met with a full blown grin from Holly. The guilt residing in the pit of your stomach dissipates somewhat and is replaced by an increasingly familiar warmth. "I don't like fleece."

"Neither do I," she smiles gently and releases your tshirt, wrapping her arm around the back of your neck instead. You look up at her in anticipation; there's something telling you that she's not finished talking. "I like you too Gail. God only knows why sometimes; you can be pretty infuriating. But it doesn't matter. I like you, a lot."

There's not enough self-control in the world to stop the smile breaking out across your face. It's big and unrestrained. In fact it's probably the widest you've smiled in a good long time. Everything you'd been pondering over and pulling apart whilst you'd laid awake last night was indeed true. This smart and interesting and funny and beautiful woman likes you; you of all people. You also find it oddly comforting that she's calling you out on being infuriating already. There's no point in trying to deny it, you actually infuriate yourself sometimes.

Holly rubs a thumb over the nape of your neck. "But..."

Why is there always a but, you ask yourself as your smile shrinks considerably. Is this where she tells you she likes you but she can't be bothered with the hassle of dating someone with the emotional intelligence of a cheese puff? Is this where she says she can't deal with your mood swings? Is this where she tells you that there's someone who's all open and friendly like Andy she's fallen for?

"But, I need you to talk to me. Not walk away." Her hand moves round from the back of your neck to stroke your cheek tenderly. The way your body reacts scares you, but you try your best to ignore and suppress it. Now isn't the time. "We tell each other stuff right?"

You nod. It's all you can manage. You're pathetic like that. Inside you're cursing your mother for raising you to be this way. So callous and closed off. It had been one of the main focuses of your sleepless night spent over thinking; whether you could blame your upbringing on your inability to deal with emotion and feelings. It would make sense. Everything had been about being the perfect police officer from an early age. How to separate yourself from the case, no matter how terrible or close to home, you were taught to distance yourself. Somewhere along the line, you'd just distanced yourself from anything and everything that resembled emotion.

"So, you told Traci you like me huh?"

Again you nod, aware of the fact you probably look ridiculous. Sat looking up at Holly nodding away like some kind of loon. She's smiling at you, but it occurs to you that Holly had just pointed out that you're supposed to tell each other stuff. "Yeah. In the locker room. After shift yesterday." You pause and try to gather all the thoughts whizzing round your head so you can talk in proper, full sentences. In order to help, you place a hand on Holly's hip. It settles you slightly. "I was with her when you rang and I, you know, asked if you wanted a date."

"I don't think you called it a date."

That throws you and you try to think back to that call yesterday whilst Holly just smirks at you. "Yeah. Whatever. That's basically what it was though..."

She cuts you off again, "well, if I'd had known that."

You roll your eyes, "oh right, because you'd have totally turned down a date with me." Gesturing down at your attire, you look up at Holly and grin. "Look how hot I look."

She laughs then. Finally. The tension and mood had lifted and you actually want to congratulate yourself for managing an adult situation like this. When she leans down and kisses you, you're ready to thrown yourself a party. Her thumb is moving over your cheek bone, her other hand still clasped in yours. It definitely feels like a long way from waking up uneasy on the sofa.

When you break the kiss, you hold her a little closer than before and look up at her biting her lip, savouring the kiss. She looks hot. Her eyes open and drop to meet yours. "I'm hesitant to say this as your ego is already big enough, but there is something incredibly hot about you in my clothes."

The sound of both of you giggling happily fills the apartment for a moment. It feels good, but reminds you that there's still stuff to be said. "I'm sorry. About last night, and this morning too. I don't mean to be so useless. It's just, all of this, us, it's new to me. And don't say I know." Holly mimes zipping her lips. "Cos, it's not because you're a girl, well not entirely. I don't do well in relationships."

"Because you're a cat?"

You have to just stare at her for a moment whilst your head catches up with the situation and what Holly is saying to you. Words are definitely not your forte, and if anything, that stupid metaphor you'd come out with on day one in her lab is proof. Your high school English teacher is probably turning in her grave, if she's dead that it, which you suspect, she probably is.

"Yeah, something like that."

"And this is you climbing a tree?"

Cursing yourself for trying to be clever all those weeks ago, you try to remember what it was you actually said. You remember something about emergency situations which you guess is what Holly is on about now, and you have to think about whether last night constituted as climbing a tree. You'd been able to get yourself down though this time. You weren't a dumb cat anymore.

Holly's just watching you, watching her and waiting. You like that she waits for you. She's patient. It's comforting. You're still trying to form a reply in your head when a mobile starts to ring in the other room. "Shit," she curses, pulling back from you slightly and checking her watch. "Shit. I'm late. Can we pick this up later?"

All you can do is nod. You're probably late too and you're not even dressed. This morning had gotten away from you, and in all honesty the last thing you want to do is head into the station and work. It felt like you'd moved forward this morning; you'd been able to talk to Holly, open up slightly and that was monumental. You don't do things like that. In fact you've probably been more honest with Holly this morning than you were after months of being with Nick. Maybe even more than you ever were with Nick.

The thought jars in your head, and you look up at Holly who's now moved into the living room and is pulling on a long coat. She catches you watching, "I'm sorry, I have to file a report this morning ahead of a court case and if I don't, well I just have to. Are you okay to lock up behind you? I'll call you later and we can talk some more about cats and trees and you liking me?"

She's grinning at you. You nod again like some kind of idiot. All of the pleasure you'd found earlier in turning this morning around and cheering Holly up after your escape act had vanished, replaced by a numb guilt all over again. You're not a good person; you fuck things up and live life to your own agenda. She deserves better. Everyone deserves better than the way you've treated people like Nick. Holly's pulling open the front door when you stand and move into the hallway.

"I don't want to be a cat anymore, it doesn't work well for me. I don't want to climb stupid trees and get stuck and, and whatever else. Hol, I want to be down on the ground with you."

She pauses, the door half open, "with me?"

"If you'll have me? Apparently you find me insane and infuriating."

Holly lets go of the door and takes the three steps it takes to reach you. Before you're fully aware of what's happening there's an arm around your waist and a hand in your hair, and you're being kissed quite furiously.

You're remotely aware of her phone ringing again, but when her tongue pushes passed yours, that's it you're gone. You're totally and utterly gone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Firstly apologies for the delay - work has been a mega pain in the ass. That time of year.**

**Secondly, many many thanks for all your amazing reviews, faves and follows - you're all legends.**

**Now let's get on with the show.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or it's beautiful characters. If I did Holly Stewart would wake me up with my coffee every morning.**

* * *

_From Holly: Report submitted 3 minutes before the deadline. Literally had to run through the court house. I'm blaming you. X_

_From Holly: Actually I'm blaming your lips. X_

There's a grin on your face which you know is very uncharacteristically Gail Peck. You haven't been able to shake it all morning. Despite the rush to make it to the station in time for parade. Despite the pile of paperwork that had been waiting after the hell of the previous day. Despite the shadow left by the absence of Sam, Chloe and Oliver. The lasting effect of this morning was very clearly making itself known in the form of your alien constantly smiling.

Traci had tried to grab you after parade but had been pulled into a briefing by Frank, just as you turned to her and you hadn't been able to catch up with her since. You're taking a quick break alone instead, flicking through the messages on your phone, all from Holly and all causing your grin to grow.

_From Holly: Please promise me you're brushing up on your metaphor skills otherwise I'm going to have to steal your tactic of kissing to silence. X_

You actually laugh out loud at that one and place your can of soda down on the desk so you can tap out a reply quickly.

_To Holly: You say that like you don't enjoy all the kissing nerd. And I'll have you know my metaphors rock. X_

Never before have you been such a fan of text messages; in fact you once spent a whole evening in the Penny abusing Dov for reading too much into every character in Chloe's messages. You'd found it pitiable, and didn't really understand how any two people who saw each other that much could still have so much to say to one another.

But that was then, and now, your view couldn't be more different. Holly and you had spent the past two nights in one another's company, sharing dinner and talking (well mostly it had been Holly talking and you struggling with stupid metaphors) but still you felt the need to document everything you possibly could in text form. And so, it seemed, did she. Your grin only grew further at the thought.

A bag of cheese puffs landing in front of you rudely disturbs your train of thought, however Holly focused it had been, and you look up to see your brother smirking at you.

"What are these for?" You ask, tearing into the packet of snack goodness without waiting for an answer. It was a known fact in your family that offerings of junk food normally meant you were about to have to do something for someone, or that you were about to be told you were going to be left alone to fend for yourself for dinner. Considering your age and current living arrangements you suspected it was the former.

"Are you ill?" Steve asks, sitting down opposite you.

"Huh?" That was a curveball even from your dork of a brother. "Ill? I'm fine."

"Something must be wrong with you," he continues as he reaches across and steals a handful of cheese puffs. "You're smiling like something demonic. It's frightening everyone away. Are you sure you've not been possessed or something."

He just manages to duck in time to avoid the cheese puff you throw at his head, and bursts out laughing. You just huff, roll your eyes and ignore him, as your phone buzzes again against the table top. You don't need to look at the screen to know who it is and snatch it up before it's even finished vibrating.

_From Holly: I'm definitely a fan of all the kissing. The metaphors not so much. Although the one about wanting to be with me, I liked. Xx_

"See," you're aware of your brother talking as you read. "Demonic. If people see you smiling so much little sister they're going to start thinking you've had a personality transplant. Or maybe, it's all down to a certain someone"

He just looks at you suggestively and you drop your phone without replying, "what do you want Steve?"

"Can't a brother bring his sister snacks and show concern about a potential sickness?"

"No," you're abrupt although you don't let your grin slip. It's not possible. Your attention returns to tapping out a message to Holly; _I want to see you again tonight_. Three nights in a row, and you're not even starting to freak out. That's definitely some kind of record for you. Normally you'd be craving alone time.

"I have a favour to ask," Steve says, the laughter finally disappearing from his voice. You glance up at him; you guessed this was coming. "Traci and I…"

"No way," you interrupt, dropping your phone again. "I told you I wasn't getting involved. I asked her whether she liked you after the wedding, that's me done. You're my brother and she's my best friend, no way, it's weird."

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"I don't care." You snatch up another handful of cheese puffs and glare at your brother. "I'd say the same thing to her, I'm not getting involved."

"Why? Has she been asking about me?" He looks excited and it brings another smile to your face. You can't help it. Here you are, all happy about your morning with Holly and your brother's all happy about him and Traci too. If you were that kind of family you'd probably be over the moon.

"I am not getting involved brother," you tell him. He almost pouts and it makes you chuckle. You sigh; you're going to regret this. "But if it's about her favourite food, the answer is Italian. She hates chick flicks, more a fan of action films and she loves those toffee chocolate things that come in the black packet."

Steve smiles at you properly then, before reaching over the table and ruffling your hair. You push him away immediately. You hate people touching your hair and he knows this. He only does it to annoy you and it always works. Today though you're still bloody smiling. He obviously notices, "you gunna tell me what's got into you then, if it's not the devil?"

You're not sure of how to answer. It might have been acceptable telling Traci and even Holly that you like her, and you might have introduced her to your brother the other night, but you're still not sure whether you're ready for actually telling him what she is to you. If you even know what it is exactly she is to you yet. That feels like a big step. He obviously had an idea, if his remark on the phone when you back at Holly's apartment was anything to go by, and he is a detective after all. Being observant is pretty much his job description.

But still, you're not ready for that.

"It's nothing," you reply, aware of your grin slipping a notch. Steve watches you for a moment before standing and making to leave. He walks behind the back of your chair and leans down to whisper in your ear as he does.

"She's definitely not nothing if she's making you smile like that."

He doesn't say anything more, just leaves the room, stopping to pause and look back at you at the door. There's a knowing smile on his face that if you weren't so dumbstruck, makes you want to throw another cheese puff at him.

You don't remember a time when your brother was able to read you so easily. In fact you don't really remember a single instance where Steve had shown any interest in your love life. Maybe you should have told him the truth about the cause of your constant smiling, or at least offered up a little more about the girl you'd introduced to him at the hospital. Momentarily you consider going after him, but your phone going off again immediately steals your attention.

_From Holly: Is that you asking me out on a real date Officer Peck? _

* * *

"You have to choose, it's the point of the game."

"I don't want to."

You're sat on the floor in front of Holly's couch with your legs kicked out straight in front of you, playing some stupid game she'd thought it was a good idea to play and get to know each other better. Holly's laid out on the couch behind you, her hand aimlessly playing with your ponytail. What you've actually learnt tonight is that when Holly plays with your hair, it doesn't annoy you. It's making you sleepy and unable to concentrate on the stupid questions she's asking you.

"Come on Gail," she pushes as her fingers trace against the nape of your neck softly. You can't help your eyes from drifting shut. "Answer the question, what would you rather? Be covered in fur or be covered in scales?"

"If I say scales are you going to tell me I'm wrong again?"

Holly had been asking you these questions for the past half hour or so, each one more bizarre than the last. But every time you answered she'd make some tutting sound and tell you that you'd made the wrong choice or ask you to explain. There's a soft giggle from above and you tip your head back against the cushions to look up at her. She's definitely laughing at you and it causes you to pout.

Propping herself up on one elbow, she stops playing with your hair and runs a finger over your jutted lower lip, "well who in their right mind would prefer to have four legs over four arms?"

She's playing with you, you know that. But it feels good. And you definitely get the feeling she thinks you're cute when you pout and get all mock annoyed. The game might be stupid, but you're playing it with Holly and that's making it fun. Whenever she giggles at you in that cute way she does, or pretends to be in a huff with you for not playing by the rules, you realise you wouldn't rather be anywhere else. "You'd only pick four arms so you could be some mega geek in the lab," you tease gently. "Think of all the science you could be doing."

Her finger runs over your lips again and her eyes visibly darken. "Maybe it's not science I'm thinking of doing."

You swallow. Hard. But it does nothing to slow your suddenly raving heartbeat or the sudden heat you feel all over your body. It's easily the third time she's said something this evening which has prompted such a reaction in you, but this is by far the strongest. It's undeniable. You want this girl. She's got you thinking things you never thought you would. You've gone past confusion; that's not the biggest issue anymore, far from it. You want to kiss Holly, you want you touch her; you want to be touched by her. That you've accepted.

What is proving a bigger dilemma is the constant tug of war between fear and guilt. It's evident that Holly wants all those things too; tonight she's not really hiding it. There are coy looks and sly touches whenever possible. Earlier there had been a comment about preferring to keep the sense of touch over the sense of smell; that combined with her eyes lingering on lips had literally rendered you speechless. It doesn't take a genius of Holly's standards to work out that she wants you in that way. And that actually sends you soaring.

What scares you is that you don't have a clue what to do.

You're good at the whole sex thing. It's not over confidence, you know you're good. You enjoy it. Hell, do you enjoy it. But sex for you has always been with guys. Always. You've had your fair share, and last time you were cheating on your sort-of-fiancé. Hence the root of the guilt.

The constant thought in your mind is an arduous one; you'll either fuck this up by being crap at sex with girls, or by breaking Holly's heart the way you did to Nick.

You don't know what to do to, but what you do know; what you're very sure of is that you want to take this thing further. You might be scared, completely frightened in fact, but you're starting to believe that you can fight that. You can get passed the fear; you're strong, you're a Peck. And Peck's don't back down.

Holly's fingers are caressing your cheeks softly as she waits for you to flirt back. You turn your head as much as you can in your current position and catch the affection in her eyes. It encourages you somewhat and you feel surer than ever that you can fight the fear and the guilt. "If you think you might need four arms to keep up with me, then fair enough," you tease in the flirtatious tone you'd been using for most of the night.

"Keep up with you huh?"

"Yeah," you look forward again, turning away from her momentarily. Your heart is drumming so hard against your chest you actually think you might hear it if the room fall into silence. The heat in the pit of your stomach is threatening to consume you, you're so turned on. Twisting your body, you face her and kneel in front of the sofa. "I'm, you know, pretty great in the sack."

The hitch in Holly's breathing confirms it for you that your words hit her hard. "You're killing me Gail," she says quietly. "You know that?"

In the last month or so, Holly has been there for you unwaveringly. She's quickly become your strongest confident and a close friend; maybe more than a friend. Definitely more than just a friend. You don't doubt that she thinks the same of you, and maybe, for the first time in your life you should make the most of having someone. A _someone _someone who is there when you need them and who gives you reassurance and maybe even love.

You don't answer, but the way she's looking at you in that moment provokes you to lean down and kiss her briefly. They're getting very addictive these Holly Stewart kisses, but there's something you have to get through before you'll let yourself have more.

"Before I kill you some more with my undeniable feminine wiles," you smirk as Holly rolls her eyes at you. "I've had something on my mind since this morning and I really need to get it out. You said I have to talk to you right?"

She shuffles slightly in her position on the sofa so she's sat up against the arm rest, legs tucked up in front of her, "go on."

Taking a seat opposite her, your knees touching as you mirroring her position, you prepare yourself for opening up a little. "Remember when I said that I'm like a cat?"

"How could I forget your expert use of metaphors?"

"What I was trying to get across, probably pretty badly, is that I don't have a great track record with people. I can be a horrible person, I know that. I can be a nightmare and difficult and all sorts of grouchy when I want to be. But in the last couple of weeks, I haven't felt that way. Not around you anyway."

"You've still been pretty grouchy," she butts in with a smile that stops you from caring about being interrupted. This girl is inspiring a new relaxed attitude in you.

"I'm trying to a better person for you. Not so snappy, or infuriating, or cat like." You pause for a minute, desperately searching for the words to get what you so badly want to, out without any more terrible metaphors. Holly reaches for your hand wordlessly and you can't help but think for the hundredth time that she can read your mind. "But I don't really know how to be in a relationship without screwing it all up. I always screw it up. Always. I'm really bad at relationships."

Holly's voice is gentle as she tries to help you out. It causes the heat in your stomach to spread to the rest of your body. "I'm really sure that's not true."

You look down then, unable to cope with those big, brown eyes and the feelings they hold. "I don't wanna screw up with you Hol."

She squeezes you hand then and you can tell she really wants you to look at her, but you don't lift your head. "What if I tell you, that I won't let you screw up Gail? What if I tell you that I really like you and I really want to see where this goes because I'd like to think we have something pretty special her?"

You look up then and those big brown eyes lock on to yours. She continues, "what if I tell you that I don't care that you're a cat, or that I don't care what happened with you and your ex? At all. I don't care that you've never been with a girl before. I just want you."

It's not clear to you which one of you makes the first move, not that it matter, but suddenly there's no gap between you and you're in one another's arms kissing. All the fire from the interrogation room is back; mixed with all the sexual tension you've felt all evening and all the reassurance that has come from Holly's words. It's quite possibly the most intense kiss you've ever experienced.

The fear and the guilt have vanished, and all you're left with is want.

When Holly tears her lips from yours to kiss down your neck, it only intensifies. "Hol," you murmur as your hand grips the back of her top. "I really freaking want you too."


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm back. And equipped with a little bit of Gail angst.**

**Your reviews so far have all been so spectacular and make every second I spend writing, totally worth it. **

**I don't own Rookie Blue or its characters. If I did Gail Peck would be wearing a bow under my Christmas tree.**

* * *

You've not even closed the door behind you when Chris's voice reaches you; "so you've remembered where you live then?"

His tone is jovial but your defences go up nonetheless. Old habits die hard and all that. "You bought the funny smell back; it drove me away," you call back at him, shrugging out of your coat and hanging it in the hall. It's your first night back at the flat since the day before the shooting four days ago. If it was up to you, you'd be staying at Holly's again but she had plans with one of her sisters and truth be told, you could do with clean clothes.

Chris is sat on the couch, a hockey game on the television screen in front of him and a bottle of beer in his hand. You look around the room as you enter, "no Dov?"

"Hospital," is Chris's quick reply followed by a swig of beer. You've been kept in the loop thanks to a series of texts between all your fellow rookies over the past few days. There had been no change with Chloe's condition but Sam was stable; that was at least a plus. "He came home for a bite to eat and a shower after shift but, well you know, I couldn't persuade him to sleep here tonight. He's probably camped out in the family room on Chloe's ward again"

You flop down beside him, "poor guy."

"He seemed to think tonight might be the night you know?"

You don't need Chris to elaborate; you'd seen first-hand at work today how hopeful Dov had been. Trying to stay positive and adamant that Chloe would wake up any minute. The cloud you'd been floating on since waking up in a naked Holly's arms had made you hopeful too and you'd even told him to give Chloe your love. Thankfully he'd been too caught up in it all to realise that not only were you actually being nice towards his girlfriend but that you were also definitely experiencing some kind of post coital bliss. Just now thinking about it, you can feel your cheeks warm up.

"Maybe it will be," you confirm quietly. "Fingers crossed."

Chris looks across at you with a strange expression, "you okay?"

At least twenty different answers fly around inside your head; each of them different and revealing varying amounts of detail on your night last night. The night where you'd slept with a girl. Part of you wants to be honest, and tell Chris that you're not entirely sure what it is that you're feeling but that you're definitely okay. But that would take someone who was good at that kind of thing, and that's not you. So instead you just nod and mutter a "yeah."

An easy silence falls between the two of you and Chris' attention is stolen back by the hockey. You can't concentrate though, even if you wanted to, and your head starts drifting back to way Holly had touched you last night. The way her kisses filled you with something. The way her eyes had held yours and the way obscenities had fallen from her lips. You'd been awake until the early hours, exploring each other's bodies and in your case, learning new talents you hadn't know before you had. For example, it would appear, you could make Holly make the most delectable of noises with just your finger.

It had definitely been a night you won't be forgetting for a while.

If ever.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks as your memories start to overload your senses. It was difficult to find adjectives big enough to describe last night; but it had changed something inside of you. You'd felt a shift and you're sure it had absolutely everything to do with the girl who made you see bright lights in front of your eyes and bought your walls crashing down. She's made you feel things like never before. God, you ponder as Chris cheers beside you at some play on screen, last night she was definitely responsible for some things you'd definitely never experienced before.

The way her naked body felt against yours; breasts sliding over one another and legs wrapped tight. The way her wetness felt against your thigh. The way her tongue flicked over your clit, tasting you. The way she gave you multiple orgasms.

Fuck, definitely the way she gave you multiple orgasms.

"Gail!"

You turn to face Chris and realise this isn't the first time he's said your name to get your attention. In fact, judging by his smirk it's been more than twice too. You swallow, trying to calm the way your heart had sped up thinking about last night, and finally manage to speak; "sorry, what?"

"Where was your head just then?"

"Nowhere."

Chris snorts and takes a mouthful of beer, "terrible attempt at lying Peck. Anyways, I was trying to ask you if you fancied ordering in? If you're hanging around here tonight that is?"

You ignore his sly dig at your absence from the apartment and nod your reply, "sure."

His attention doesn't slip from you though and you fidget under his eyes, wiping a spot of imaginary lint from your pant leg. You know that Chris wants to question your whereabouts for the past few days whilst you've been AWOL from the apartment. He probably has his suspicions; and suspicions which are more than likely based on a level of fact. It had been him after all that had insisted you call Holly as you'd left the station to go find Oliver the other day. And it had been Chris who you'd been brave enough to introduce her to at the hospital. He wasn't stupid.

"Sooo," he draws out the word as if he's trying to draw something out of you. "Do I need to ask where you've been?"

You avoid his eyes, "I don't wanna talk about it Diaz."

Much to your chagrin, your roommate and ex-boyfriend's experience of difficult gain means he's not deterred. "How do you know we weren't worried about you huh? You could have been laid face down in a ditch somewhere for all we knew."

Trust Chris to go all fatherly on you.

Although you are relieved this is the approach he's taking and not flat out demanding to know whether you've switched teams.

"I know you don't believe this Gail, but we care about you." You obviously make a move to protest but Chris shuts you off. "We all care about you a lot whether you like it or not, Gail. You can be a massive pain in the ass and normally it's because someone's rubbed you up the wrong way or you've had a shit day, or," he looks at you with a grin, "because you haven't had your coffee yet. But you haven't been like that these past couple of days, and you've had every reason to be, with what's been happening at the station and with the others. And Collins. But you've not been so, you know, angry."

"You make me sound like such a catch," you reply sarcastically with a signature roll of the eyes.

Chris replies in a split second, "Holly obviously thinks so."

That knocks you a little. You hadn't expected him to be so blasé about it nor so forward. There's no malice to his voice. It's in the same tone as he stated how much of a pain in the ass you can be. You drop your head to where you've starting brushing off your pant leg again. Has it really been that obvious to everyone? Has everyone worked it out already?

First Traci, then Steve and now Chris; they'd all had their presumptions without you saying anything. Not for the first time in your career in the force, you curse the fact you work with people whose job it is to work out what's going on. Even for someone as closed off as you, it can prove impossible to have secrets.

The thought makes you nervous, that people might be looking at you differently if they've realised what's going on with you and Holly. Gossip at the station can spread like wildfire. What if when you go in tomorrow, your relationship with Holly is common knowledge? You're not ready for that. You're not ready for the questions that will undoubtedly come, because you're not sure you have the answers. You're not ready to face the haters. You're not ready for any of this.

It must be clear that you're starting to go off on a panic in your head because Chris's hand is covering yours, stilling its nervous movement on your thigh. "Hey," he starts softly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

You want to tell him that he's wrong; that you're not upset because there's nothing to be upset about. He's got it all wrong and you're not upset, you're just Gail. But if you did, that would be denying Holly, denying the way Holly makes you feel and you might not be entirely knowledgeable on emotional stability but you know that would be wrong. Denying anything to do with Holly would only make you feel worse.

Especially after last night.

So you suck it up. You're a police officer, you remind yourself, lifting your head. You're supposed to be made of braver stuff, stronger stuff, stuff that can stand up for what it believes in. Even though you can't stand it, your mother's teachings are the first things that come to mind. You will be proud. You will be strong.

"Chris..."

"I shouldn't have said anything," he rambles, shutting off the television and turning more to face you. "It's not my place."

"It's as much your place as anyone else's," you tell him firmly, but you don't mean it in a bad way. It strikes you then, that you're almost glad you're friends know you so well that they can work it out with you having to give away much. It saves you painful and difficult conversations. It means you don't have to struggle to find the best way or the most appropriate way or correct timing. "Honestly, I'm not upset."

Chris immediately looks relieved but that doesn't mean he's relenting; "so you've been at hers then? These last three nights?"

You nod.

"Together?"

"No," you reply, dripping with sarcasm. "I've been staying at Holly's flat on my own. God knows where she's been, but I just couldn't face living with boys anymore."

Chris laughs and the tension that has grown in the room, ebbs significantly. You finally allow yourself to sit back a little against the cushions and reach out to take Chris's half full bottle of beer from his hand. He lets you and doesn't say a word when you nearly down it all in one gulp. You needed that.

"She's hot," he says then, almost dreamily as if you're not in the room.

"Don't you dare Diaz."

* * *

It's not until later, over cartons of Chinese food and another couple of bottles of beer, that Chris brings Holly up again. Your mind had been on other things, mainly noodles and deep fried chicken, and you'd almost completely forgotten about your earlier conversation you'd let yourself relax so much.

"You should bring her round, Holly I mean. It'd be cool to meet her."

You have to stare at him for a moment before you swallow the mouthful of food you'd just shovelled in. He'd said it so innocently, like it was just one of those mundane everyday things. It isn't, you screaming inside. Introducing Holly to your friends, that's not mundane, that's fucking huge. Mammoth. Monumental. You're aware your eyes have probably gone as wide as saucers and you're not sure whether you're breathing or not, but your room mate hasn't seemed to notice.

"If you guys are dating..."

Dating?

"Then, you know, it'd be cool to meet her properly, go for drinks at the Penny or something. Hey!" He slaps your arm excitedly, "we should all go to the Penny tomorrow night. Get a group together, you can bring Holly. That'll cheer people up."

A group?

You genuinely can't think of anything worse than outing yourself in front of a huge crowd of your work colleagues and friends all at once. In fact, the idea actually makes you want to throw up a little. Alarm bells are sounding in your ears and you suddenly aren't hungry anymore.

"I'll text Traci," Chris continues, picking up his cell from the arm of the sofa, completely unaware of the meltdown currently occurring in your head.

Holly isn't something you're ready to share, you're not there yet. Your relationship is something you're happier keeping just between you two, in the comfort of her living room and in her bedroom. Definitely in her bedroom. It feels safer that way. No-one can judge you, no-one can ruin it. That's the way you want it. Safe and in one piece.

Chris is tapping out a message happily beside you and you realise if you don't put a stop to this soon, he's going to be expecting you to flaunt your new found sexuality all over the Penny and burst the happy bubble of yours and Holly's relationship. "I don't think we're there yet," you all but mumble and Chris lifts his head to look at you, confusion on his face. "I'm not ready for that."

It's only once the words are out do you feel like you're free to breathe again, and thankfully the way Chris's face has softened tells you that he understands. He puts his phone back down, "Another time yeah? No rush."

"Thanks Chris."

He reaches over then, and pats your shoulder affectionately. Normally you'd shrug him off and accuse him of being a soppy git but in the moment, it's what you need. "Can I ask you something?"

You know it's going to be about Holly and your relationship. You get that; you've just confirmed to one of your closest friends that you've spend the past three nights with a member of the same sex, of course he has questions. It would be exactly the same it the roles were reversed. You nod, and place your abandoned carton of takeout on the table in preparation. "Sure."

"How long has this been going on? You and Holly?"

It's the obvious first question, and thankfully one you know the answer too. Good start. "Not long, four days in fact." You smile then; you can't help it. Thinking about the time you've spend with her already. It feels longer than four days and yet at the same time, it's gone so quickly. Like when you're a little kid and you get really excited for the holidays then the day's over in a flash. No, that's not right; you don't want this to be over in a flash like that. You're a fan of this feeling; you're a fan of the way Holly makes you feel, you want more and more of it.

"Only four days?" Chris looks surprised.

"I kissed her after Chloe got shot," you admit.

"You kissed her." He's even more shocked now and you roll your eyes. "You made the first move? Seriously?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Chris takes a swig from his beer and actually laughs at you. It's enough to get your back up. You hate being laughed at. "It's just not what I'd expect, that's all."

"You know I hate people's expectations of me Chris." You don't say it aggressively, but it's not said lightly. It's the root of your fears. That's always what it boils down to. People always expect of you, and this isn't what they were expecting. You're scared. You're nervous. You don't want to let anyone down.

Chris's face is etched with the concern and care that is normally reserved for puppies and small children. It reminds you how different the two of you are. It's the reason you would never have worked out; not romantically. You're ten times better off as friends. But he's made for situations like this; you on the other hand go out of your way to avoid them. It's what the weight of expectation does to people, you think.

"How many people know?"

"Traci, you, and possibly my brother." He's silent for a moment and you notice his eyebrows are furrowed in thought. You decide to speak again before any more questions come, "and I'd kind of like it to stay that way for a bit, whilst I get my head round it all."

He looks at you square on, "of course. I totally get that. I won't say a word, you can trust me."

And you believe him. You do trust him. It's not something you have a lot of experience with, trusting other people. If you're a hundred percent honest with yourself, you don't really think you ever truly trusted neither Nick nor Chris whilst you were dating. But that's probably your own fault, you're coming to realise. You never gave yourself fully to either of them. You didn't want to have to trust them because that would mean you were dependent on them. And you hate that feeling. Dependency. It's different now however, you do trust Chris. And Traci.

What's more, even though it scares the shit out of you, you think you trust Holly more than you've ever trusted anyone.

You're growing up.


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm back!**

**Massive apologies for the huuuuuge delay on getting this piece live. Work has been a bitch and then Christmas got in the way and I felt like I'd lost my mojo a little. I started writing again because I wan't in a great place personally, and writing normally helps me with these things. This time around however it just seemed to serve to make things worse. But hopefully, fingers, toes and everything else crossed, I'm passed that now.**

**So here we go, carrying on where we left off. I'm already writing the next chapter after this one so the wait won't be huge again. Please read, review or let me know if there's anything you'd like to pass on.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue or it's characters. If I did, my New Year's resolution would be to spend more time with my girlfriend Gail.**

* * *

Chloe doesn't wake up that night.

Nor the next four after that.

It means you all rally around Dov even more, as his mood and brave outlook begins to crumble. You take turns; Chris, Traci, Andy and you to stay with him as much as he'll allow. Even Oliver, who's still signed off work, spends an entire day sat in the family room on Chloe's ward so Dov's not left alone.

And so, as a result, you've had virtually no time to spend with Holly. Which, you've decided, especially after your three nights together in a row, is officially the worst thing in the world. You've had to rely on sneaking lunch together at the lab or flying visits for coffee in between shifts and trips to the hospital. It's been excruciating. All you've been able to think about is getting her naked again.

Which is why, when Chloe finally does wake up, you can't help but feel a little annoyed at her timing.

You have two days in a row off. Two days in a row to be spent with Holly in the safety of her apartment, naked and wrapped up in her sheets. With snacks. And maybe a margarita or two. You'd practically skipped to hers from the station ready for nothing but that, and when Holly's lips found yours as soon as she opened the door, you guessed she was just as excited as you.

No time is wasted. Your jacket hits the floor before the door was kicked shut and the brunette's hands quickly found bare skin at the back of your shirt. It sends waves of confidence through your body, knowing that Holly had been waiting for this as much as you and you push your body into hers a little more.

She responds by deepening the kiss and moving her hands round to loop her thumbs through the belt loops on your jeans, tugging you with her as she walks backwards into the apartment. You stumble slightly, because let's face it, you're just not that smooth, but thankfully it results in you pushing Holly against a wall and you end up flush against her.

"Hi," she says then against your lips, like she doesn't want to move any further away from you than she has to. Your stomach flips at the idea.

"Hey," you whisper and kiss her again, briefly but as filled with want. "I missed you."

She giggles and you can help but think it's adorable, "you saw me yesterday."

"Yeah," you moan as your hand finds its way to tangle in her loose flowing hair of its own accord. "For like five minutes, and you definitely didn't kiss me like this then."

When she giggles again, your whole body is genuinely filled with so much warmth it reaches the very tips of your fingers and toes. Holly's hold on you has tightened and you honestly start to wonder whether you've ever been this desperate to take someone to bed before, or this turned on.

"If you're lucky," Holly utters seductively, straight into your ear. "In five minutes, I'll have you naked and in my bed."

That's all it takes and you lock lips again, your tongue pushing straight into her mouth and grab the bottom of her tshirt. She lifts her back from the wall to assist you slightly as you pull the cotton up and over her head, lips immediately finding hers again as your discard her top to the left of you.

You feel more confident than that first night. You'd been nervous then, possibly more nervous than you've ever been in a situation like this. There'd been an overwhelming sense of wanting to impress Holly, not wanting to let her down in any way. The fear had settled back in, and you'd let Holly take the lead. It was her that had done the undressing. It was her that had laid you down on her soft sheets. It was her that uttered gentle words to check you were okay.

But now, you want to show her that you can do the same. You want to show her how much you want her; and God, do you want her.

Like you've never wanted anyone before.

It's all you've been able to think about in every spare minute; and if truth be told, in some not so spare minutes too. Only this morning, Frank had called you up on not paying attention in parade when your mind had wandered off to the way Holly's naked skin looked first thing in the morning. You'd had four whole days to work it out in your head what you wanted to do to her, and how. You'd thought about where you wanted to touch her and whether or not she'd like that. Every possible scenario had run through your head and now you were sick of thinking, you just wanted to act.

And act quickly.

Your hands are on her bare torso now, skimming over the softness of her skin and the curve of her hip bones. When your thumb runs over the ridge of protruding bone there, Holly breaks the kiss to catch her breath and then kisses you at the start of your jawline, before drawing her tongue slowly down your neck.

"Fuck, Hol," you murmur.

"That is the idea," she practically snickers, taking the opportunity whilst you're distracted to pull your sweater up and off. You can't help but notice the way her eyes darken as she takes in your newly exposed chest, and it stokes an already raging fire in the pit of your stomach.

"See something you like?" You tease, running your hand up her rib cage to trace over the fabric of her bra. The first night had been gentle, slow, and you'd felt completely safe in the way Holly controlled the situation. It had been the way you'd needed it to be. She'd helped to dissipate the fear and nerves.

But now, there's a whole world of pent up sexual need and it's spilling out through passionate kisses and roaming hands.

"Uh-huh," she nods, her hand moving up to run slowly over the top of your breasts. "You're so beautiful Gail, you know that?"

You don't answer. You don't know how, so instead you kiss her again and grab at her sides gently to guide her away from the wall and towards the bedroom or sofa or anywhere where you can just lay her down already.

"I mean it Gail," she whispers against the skin of your neck when she pulls away again. It causes vibrations which makes your entire body tingle. "You really are so, so beautiful"

There's an inflection to her voice as she says those words which makes you believe that she completely means them. It causes something deep and carnal to stir inside of you, right at the pit of your stomach and it's as if all the moisture in your body drops between your legs.

Your hands find their own way to the top of her jeans and it takes you a moment longer than you'd like to pop open the button. Holly doesn't seem to notice though; not when her own hands are currently distracted by running over the fabric covering your breasts repeatedly. You want to be naked; you want Holly to be naked. You don't want any more barriers between the two of you.

"Get these off," you practically growl, pushing the denim down slightly. You can feel lace under your fingertips as you do so, and you honestly think at this moment, that Holly might be the sexiest person you've ever met.

It's then, that your cell phone starts ringing in your back pocket.

"You've got to be kidding me," you curse as you pull away abruptly. Holly just simply places a kiss to your forehead as she tries to gain a little composure. You drop your hands from her naked abdomen and almost automatically she takes a step back. A rush of cool air hits your own naked body. When you pull your phone out and see Dov's name flashing on the screen, you sign and answer the call. "Hey Dov…"

Holly moves away then, still topless and you actually want to scream down the phone at your friend for his frankly, terrible timing. Then you remember the girlfriend of his in a hospital bed and the waiting husband too. So you just watch the half-naked beauty as she walks into the kitchen, your eyes glued to the way her jeans hug her ass. It's hypnotising and you almost forget you're on the phone.

But when Dov speaks his voice is so excited that you can't help but crack a small smile, "Chloe's awake, Gail. She's really awake!"

You're genuinely happy for them both, "that's great."

* * *

Holly's sat at the kitchen island when you find her, still just in her bra, drinking from a bottle of water and flipping through what looks like one of her nerdy magazines. She looks beautiful.

She looks up when you walk towards her, "everything okay?"

"Chloe's awake."

Suddenly you feel awkward and fidgety. Holly's looking at you with something resembling concern, although her eyes keep dropping the short distance to your chest and then quickly back up. You've had people stare at your chest before; come on they're only human, but this is different. Holly doesn't just stare. It's not just lust. There's something more wanting than that. It makes you nervous.

You can't shake that feeling still that you could still fuck all of this up.

Not now. Later. You can dwell on that later. Now is time for you and Holly. Chloe's awake. People are happy. Holly is wearing tight jeans and just her bra. Her black, lacy bra. Dwelling on your screwed up perceptions of relationships can be done whilst you're alone. You kick yourself into moving towards her.

"That's really great news," Holly smiles at you and it lights up her whole face. Beautiful. "I bet Dov is over the moon."

You nod. Dov sounded happier that he had all week. Despite not having slept properly since she was shot, the exhaustion that had riddled his voice was completely gone. You could almost imagine him bouncing up and down on heels in excitement. "Yeah, he is," you confirm for her and stand opposite her at the island, leaning on your forearms. "He's rounding people up to go to the Penny to celebrate."

Holly flips the magazine shut and you notice it's science-y title, confirming your earlier suspicions. She's such a nerd. A beautiful, sexy nerd. "Do you wanna go?"

"Go where?"

She just giggles softly and reaches for your hand. "To the Penny."

You hesitate. You don't, not really. There's a hot wetness between your legs you'd much rather be addressing. Going to Penny is not what's at the forefront of your mind right now.

"I want to finish what we've started," you tell her, leaning slightly further over the counter and closing the gap between the two of you a little. "I want to take you to bed. I want to get you out of the rest of those clothes."

Holly's smirking at you in a way which makes you proud of your choice of words and the effect they've had on her. You notice the way her chest has taken on a slight red flush and how it takes her an extra second to compose herself before replying. "You don't want to go celebrate with your friends?"

"I spent all day with those idiots."

She tugs at your hand and you make your way round the island to stand in front of her. "You don't think they'll be waiting for you?"

All you manage is a shrug of the shoulders; being this close to a semi naked Holly again is very distracting. She stands, and slips her arms around your waist. "I don't mind if you want us to go down there."

It's her use of the word 'us' that causes a lump to jump up into your throat.

You're reminded of your conversation with Chris five nights previous, and another you'd had with Traci in the squad room yesterday when she'd asked how things were going between the two of you. There'd been a remark about a Peck sibling double date which almost made you spit your coffee out across the table.

"I don't wanna go," you croak. Holly regards you for a minute with a strange look in her eye, but doesn't say anything about it. When you speak again, your voice is a little stronger. "I want to stay here with you. Just you and me."

"We have two whole days Gail."

"Don't you want to stay in with me tonight?" You ask as your hands play with the bracelet on Holly's wrist. There's an element of anger in your voice you can't ignore.

"Of course I do," she replies patiently. "I have a half-naked Officer Peck in my arms, and I've missed you these past few days. But maybe, I think you should probably be with your friends tonight, celebrating with them. We can just go down for a couple and then carry on with this."

She squeezes your hips and smiles sweetly. All you can do is drop your eyes to where you're running the silver chain through your fingers. There's a small voice of reason in the back of your head that's telling you she's only trying to help; that maybe she has a point. It's only a couple of drinks, you, Holly and your closest friends. But it's only small, and the part of your brain shouting loudest is telling you that you're still not ready.

"Unless you'd rather go alone," she fills the silence.

"That's not it," you argue back quietly, still eyes down unable to meet those big, brown expressive ones belonging to Holly.

And it isn't it.

Obviously you'd like to celebrate Chloe being out of the woods, but you'd much, much rather be here with Holly. Not because you're scared of coming out in public with her. Not at all. You need to find a way to get that across to Holly, and quickly judging by the smile slipping from her face.

"I don't care what people think of me Hol," you tell her firmly, although in your head there's words all jumbled up and flying about. You really want this to go well. "I just want to get this," you gesture between the two of you, looking up as you do so to meet those eyes. "Together and clear in my own head before everyone finds out. I'm not ashamed of you. I'm not hiding."

She pulls you ever so slightly closer, "I won't push you Gail, I wanna be here for you."

"And you have been, probably more than anyone else ever has been my entire life." It's not an exaggeration. In the short time you've known Holly, she's been the one to pick you up, the one you call when you need help and the one who's held you together. "The rest of the guys, the other rookies, they're all close but I've never really been the biggest part of them. I was the outsider. I know they're my friends but honestly Hol, I really don't want to be anywhere else tonight."

When Holly speaks, her voice is filled with emotion. "Was that really Gail Peck opening up without using a metaphor?"

She nudges your hip with hers and the two of you share a brief laugh as you move your hands up her bare arms slowly before cupping her face. You might not be completely in touch with your feelings, but you know that she makes you feel something special. Something that doesn't come along very often. "Maybe I'm trying something new."

"Just kiss me already Gail."

Your mother always taught you to do as you're told, so you do, pulling Holly flush against you again. Her lips move with yours as hungrily as they did when you arrived and you soon find Holly's hands pulling down the zipper on your jeans.


End file.
